


On the upper glass shelf

by courgette96



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Toys, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death - Freeform, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Romance, Small toys Big feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10098113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courgette96/pseuds/courgette96
Summary: There once was a lead soldier with a crack on his face, who lived under the bed where forgotten toys go.There once was a doll on the upper glass shelf, where fragile things are kept out of reach.There were many things between them: a whole room, a whole shelf, a Shadow that slithered under the bed. And something bigger still, that would allow them to overcome all of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [En la Repisa de Vidrio mas Alta](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920909) by [Callipso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callipso/pseuds/Callipso)
  * Translation into Русский available: [На верхней стеклянной полке](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038623) by [Lenuchka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenuchka/pseuds/Lenuchka)



> New Au that's been in my head for a while! I have about 4 chapters of this written, hopefully posting it will give me the boost to finish it!
> 
> No Beta, all mistakes are mine
> 
> EDIT: Thanks to sunshine1270, who made me remember to specify that this AU is of course inspired by the Tin Soldier and Ballerina tale by Andersen. Credit where it is due.

The room was a bedroom, had been so for a very long time. Ever since the now-a-father had been a little boy, which was so long ago there were very few toys to remember.

The oldest one in the room, the only one who could speak of such times was the kindly owl, whose feathers had once been a stunning copper brown but was now all grey. The owl didn’t seem to mind though, since his faded feathers had dulled during great adventures in the park and beyond, the kind only the most beloved and special toys could go on.

Kylo had greatly admired the owl once. So tall and majestic, even as he was old and frail. Such a grand name he had, even though he went by a more common one. For when the owl was young and shinning new, the little boy who adored him could barely speak at all. So he had named the owl “Ben”, a much easier name on the tongue.

The owl had kept the name ever since. He had worn the name with pride, which was something Kylo couldn’t comprehend.

Not the new name, that is.

Pride.

Kylo couldn’t understand what it was like to feel pride, because he was not a beloved owl who was wise and kind. He was not on the bed, high up near the pillow, to be kissed before bed time and grinned at come morning.

He was a toy soldier, with a crack on his face.

And so he was sent where broken toys go.

The Shadow under the bed churned and slithered, tightening its coils around him. Had it been nighttime, Kylo might have curled into himself, clutched his knees and buried his head in his arms. Alas, the sun was still out, and so he had to keep his spine straight and his hand on the pummel of his sword. Unable to fight, and unable to hide.

And still the Shadow slithered.

 _Hush, little thing,_ it whispered with its many mouths. _If you stir too much, you will break. I am all that is keeping you together._

Kylo knew it had to be true.

The crack on his face was a terrible, hideous thing that spread from the top of his brow to the side of his neck. It dug into his shoulder in one final, cruel twist, and had he been any less fortunate he would have lost his arm.

Not that it would have changed much, broken as he was. His paint had been chipped away, leaving nothing but a dark coat beneath. Only his face and hands still bore their colors; they were the only proof that there had been anything other than dark before.

He forgot sometimes, often. So long under the bed, so long broken, he couldn’t remember a time where he had been whole. He knew it must have happened, for no toy was born defective. Perhaps there had been a time when he was cherished, though it seemed too outlandish a thing to believe.

But he would never know, for he was under the bed, forgotten.

And toys that are forgotten forget it turn.

Sometimes, he dreamed of small hands blindly patting under the bed, in search of something precious. Instead, they would find him, and though he could not dream it would be a happy accident, perhaps it would be cause enough for him to be put back on a shelf.

Oh, he was in no state to lead an army, could certainly not join the soldiers in beige and white he saw glimpses of from his place in the ground! But oh, surely he would be allowed at the side? Perhaps even some patient, gentle soul would take paint and enamel, and attempt to salvage what could be fixed?

He knew he wasn’t deserving of such privilege. He knew that the crack on his face came from a child’s carelessness, and that such carelessness meant he was not valued or valuable.

But the dream was sweet, and the days were long, so surely it could not hurt to spend it in fantasy?

The Shadow stirred, grew heavier still, in a nearly unbearable cloak. So dark Kylo was already, and with the Shadow covering him, he blended into the Darkness completely.

 _I keep you safe,_ it had whispered once, its countless eyes forming new scars on Kylo’s skin. _If they find you, broken and useless, what would they make of you? You cannot be repaired; why shouldn’t they throw you away?_

Kylo couldn’t speak; if he could have, he would have whimpered.

It seemed the Shadow could read his mind, and never failed to tell him how wrong he was. Still, Kylo could never get angry, because the Shadow was much older than him, much older than anything here. It was wise, and had done much for him.

So he sighed on his mind, and he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until night came. Until the moon shined through paler curtains, and he could move.

And move he did.

Kylo dared not venture outside of the Shadow, but he was still brave enough to venture at its edges. And after he hoisted himself up to his feet, mindful of his fragile elbow as he did, he hurried to the edges of his imposed home, up to the foot of the bed on which he could climb.

It wasn’t very high, but it was enough, and if he stretched his arm and ducked his head, he could see far beyond was he could in the daytime. Higher and higher to the upper glass shelf, where the porcelain doll stirred awake.

Kylo couldn’t be sure, forgetful as he was, broken as he was, but he did believe that he was in love with that doll.

When he had first seen it, it had been during his first daring foray to the limits of the world granted to him. The Shadow hasn’t approved, but had let him go. So he had gone far and beyond, had sat down on the ground.

And then he had caught a glimpse of it. And he had thought that the moonlight was playing its tricks again, for he saw a creation of such pallor and visible fragility that surely it had been an echo of moonbeam, to be shattered forever at the slightest touch.

But it hadn’t been, for the moonbeam had moved, had walked, had spoken in arrogant words that Kylo couldn’t fully make out, and it had been breathtaking. For Kylo then knew that the little fragile thing was not so, that porcelain was stronger than lead. For while the doll strut around like a General, or an Emperor, Kylo was cowering in the Shadows, watching with longing at what he could not have.

At first, he had been jealous, of the confidence. Of the green eyes and red hair. Of the clothes which were not quite black, mainly grey, with white stripes and a silver buckle. That jealousy had dwindled down when he remembered all that he was not, and all that could never be.

But this doll was new, was beautiful, enthralling, and such a great reward for his own daring in venturing so far. And though he was sad, he decided then that he could not hate it.

So he came back the next night, because one more glimpse couldn’t hurt.

For the night afterwards, he saw as the doll stirred awake. And he saw as the doll marched on its shelf, sat down, stood back up and marched again. He saw as the doll looked over the toys below, and saw that pale face remains impassive as ever. And Kylo saw as no one came up to its level, and how no one was even on the shelf below. He looked around the bedroom, and saw all the other toys stirring below, some in plain sight, some in conspiratorial circles whispering what he couldn’t hear. None of them so much as glanced up.

And Kylo looked back up at the doll with red hair, and how he paced, and marched, and kept busy.

Kylo thought it might be lonely, alone on the glass shelf.

And Kylo’s heart had swelled with sympathy, for he was lonely too.

So he came back the next night, because one more glimpse couldn’t hurt.

On that night, the chess pieces had gone into a fight, and the doll had watched the game. He yelled orders at the white pieces, and though they did not respond they headed his words, and went on to victory.

Kylo then learned that the doll was very smart indeed, and it had impressed him tremendously.

So he came back the next night. And the night after that.

And again.

One night, he spotted the red cat prowl the bedroom, for the door had been left open. He saw as it pounced on the radiator, then on the wooden chair, then up and up until it made its way to the top, to the glass shelf with the doll.

Kylo had been so full of fright. He had gotten to his feet, and before he even thought of what he was doing, climbed onto the foot of the bed. He needed to see, needed to make sure the cat hadn’t caused terrible harm!

It only occurred to him later that his bad arm hadn’t broken from his daring.

At the moment, all he could think about had been the doll, and the cruel carelessness of a cat.

He hurried in his climb, stretched his little body as far as he could, and what he had seen had stunned him.

The doll had been in no danger at all! Instead, the cat had laid it head delicately against the shelf, and the doll was petting it with its small hands. The cat had been purring, and the doll had been laughing.

And Kylo watched, and felt his little heart burst with his wonder for the peculiar doll of so many talents.

After that, there had been no question of not coming back. He would return for as many nights as were given to him.

Today, the doll was leaning over the shelf, looking at the chess pieces and sniffing in displeasure at the poor strategy. Kylo smiled as the doll’s  nose crinkled.

It had occurred to him it might be rude to watch without permission. If he could speak to the doll, he would most certainly apologize.

But the doll and him would never meet, and he was too weak to keep himself from watching some more.

He could have watched on forever, but all too soon he heard stirring in the back.

His heart sank, for he knew the Shadow was displeased.

 _Come back, little toy,_ the Shadow whispered, _for you are too far away, too dangerously exposed._

“A nighttime more,” Kylo asked, for surely it had been but minutes? Surely in this winter night, there was still time for him to feel happiness?

 _It has been hours, and the sun is nigh,_ the Shadow said, sending wisps of darkness to tease at his ankles. _Come back, that I may keep you safe._

“An hour more,” the soldier pleaded, for though the Shadow knew best, surely it might indulge? Surely it might protect him long enough for him to linger?

 _You are greedy, and it will cause you pain,_ the Shadow berated, its gentle voice like knives. _It will cause you to break, if you do not come back._

“A moment more,” the toy begged. But a moment was quickly passed, and so he let himself be taken away by the Shadow, his eyes never leaving the doll until it disappeared from his sight, hidden by the edge of the bed.

It was enough, that brief moment. Anymore would be greedy.

When Kylo was back to his usual spot, he laid down on the floor once again, and waited for the sun to rise.

He would wait another day, and when night came, he would venture to the edge of the Shadow, and watch the doll from afar.

And it would be enough.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys! I hadn't expected this small fic to get as much feedback as it did! Thank you so much!!!
> 
> Still have enough of a buffer that I can post ch2. Since my exams are done next week, I'll have more time to write so hopefully I'll be able to keep up this rythm! 
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine.

As it was so often the case, the greatest change and life altering event came from another’s thoughtless gesture.

_“I swear to God, if you lost it-”_

_“I didn’t lose it! It probably just fell somewhere!”_

The words drifted from beyond the shadows, accompanied by footsteps that made the floor tremble.

_“Did you check under the bed?”_

_“Why would it be there?”_

_“Just check, George!”_

The Shadow tightened around him, more suffocating than ever before. Kylo could not gasp, nor could he squirm. Yet even if he could have, he would have not: the Shadow only sought to shield him from the cruelties of the world.

It was Kylo’s duty to accept Its care.

And yet, in that meaningless afternoon of an ordinary day happened the greatest of impossibilities: the Shadow failed. A patting hand cut through it easily, blindly sweeping over the floor until it brushed against Kylo quite by accident.

_“What the… ?”_

The hand wrapped around him, and Kylo’s mind went blank with panic as it pulled him away. His vision turned white as well when light blinded him – it had been so long, so so long! – and the room he found himself in was a blur of cream colored walls and light blue sheets. There were harsher colors as well, maroon from an old blanket and dark green from a small wooden chair. Quilts and books and a wooden wardrobe that all bore marks of time and use.

It was dissonant, but it fit, because it was all very lived in.

_“Is this yours?”_

_“Nah, it’s not. Looks ancient though. Could be your dad’s.”_

_“My dad’s not_ that _old.”_

_“Whatever. Just put it on the shelf there.”_

He felt himself be moved around, heard the clunk of lead against wood as he was set down. By random chance, he was turned to face the room rather than the wall, and soon enough his vision cleared so that he could take it in full.

He couldn’t gasp. He very much wanted to.

It was so very high up here! Much higher than the foot of the bed, much higher than he ever remembered being! He could see such sights from here!

The bed, and the place beneath it. His entire world for so long.

It seemed much smaller from here.

He could see the Shadow shake, churning on itself as it tried to send its tendrils out to catch him, but Kylo was much too far for It to reach. He couldn’t even hear Its voice anymore.

He knew it would want him to return. He knew he ought to do as he was told, but for the life of him he could not figure out how! There was no way down that he could see, and he could hardly risk climbing down through the cracks in the wood.

Much too dangerous that. He wouldn’t make it.

The Shadow stirred some more, making Kylo wince in remorse though he did not know what he could do.

Perhaps, when night came, when he could move, he would figure something out. Perhaps, if he worked hard enough, his protector would not be too angry.

Yet as soon as the sun set, his efforts to return were cut short by a voice coming from right above him.

“You’re new.”

Kylo looked up quickly, and froze in delighted shock at what he saw.

It was him. It was the doll!

Kylo hadn’t noticed, hadn’t realized he himself was on the shelf he had spent so long watching from afar. But now he recognized the wood, the boards, and the lone glass shelf at the very top, slightly thinner than the rest.  The lone glass shelf where a porcelain doll was put away.

And the doll was looking down at him, leaning over the glass panel to look down at Kylo. His eyes – green, grey, grey-green, so lovely- were piercing as they looked upon Kylo’s cracked face.

Kylo felt so flustered at the sight that he couldn’t think his answer through, and instead blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I’m not new. I’m very old, you see.”

As soon as he heard himself, he blushed. It hadn’t sounded like a very clever response at all.

The doll didn’t seem to mind, though. He inclined his head in a conceding gesture. “New here, then,” he amended, looking at Kylo expectantly.

“I suppose.”

“Feeble minds suppose,” the doll sniffed, lifting his chin. “I only care for those who know.”

Kylo tilted his head. “But what if I know that I can only suppose?”

The doll huffed at that, and Kylo’s heart sank at the thought that he was already trying his patience. He honestly hadn’t meant to.

“Tell me your name?” he asked tentatively, hoping that continuing the conversation would put the irritation behind them. “That I may know that much at least?”

“Hux.”

Hux.

Kylo repeated the name in his mind over and over again, in different tones and different accents. It made sweet music in his mind, the likes of which he could listen to forever.

Hux’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you going to tell me yours?”

Kylo blushed, and quickly corrected his mistake. “I’m Kylo.”

As the doll nodded in response, he leaned over more, until half his torso was hovering over the emptiness beneath. Though the wooden shelf Kylo was on was slightly larger than Hux’s glass one, it wouldn’t stop Hux should he fall.

Kylo’s heart clenched with fear at the thought. “You shouldn’t be so close to the edge.”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“You might fall.”

“I’ve been here for a long time,” he answered dismissively, waiving away Kylo’s concern. It only grew when Kylo saw he was only holding himself with one hand. “I know the risks, and how to avoid them. You needn’t worry.”

“I think I might anyway,” Kylo answered earnestly. He felt his cheeks redden.

In truth, he felt quite miffed to have his concern so disregarded.

The doll raised his eyebrows. “You would be the first.”

“I don’t believe that’s true,” Kylo argued. “You must be cared for, to be put so high up. Out of harm’s way.”

“Am I?” Hux replied, and this time he sounded bitter. “Or am I simply here to be forgotten?”

“No, it’s the first one. You have to be under a bed to be forgotten.”

That gave the doll pause. He looked somewhat chastised by Kylo’s remark, though that was not his intent at all. “Is that where you come from?”

“I think so.”

“Think? Do you not know?”

Kylo shrugged to hide his unease. “It’s been a long time.”

“A long time since what?”

“Lots of things.”

Hux huffed, crossing his arms. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Cryptic. Obscure. Impenetrable.”

Kylo frowned. “I don’t understand. I am made of lead, you know,” he answered. “I’m very dense.”

It hadn’t occurred to him that he had just made a joke until he heard the doll chuckle. He felt very warm, if not very bright.

“And what else are you?” Hux asked, much more mirthful than before. He leaned ever so closer to Kylo, who felt himself growing bold.

“Many things,” Kylo replied, voice much firmer this time. And then, because he dared, he added: “Some you might value, I hope.”

“Are strong then?”

“Strong for my size.”

“Can you climb?”

Kylo thought of the foot of the bed, which wasn’t very high but didn’t offer much to hold onto. “Adequately.”

Huxs eyes shone bright. The tremor of eagerness in his voice matched the tremor in his hands. “Can you join me, then?”

Kylo opened his mouth, closed it. The agreement was on the tip of his lips, but reason and caution kept him from speaking it.

The delay in his answer made Hux’s enthusiasm visibly dim. Kylo looked down at his feet, too ashamed to meet him in the eye. “I’ll break.”

Looking away couldn’t stop him from hearing the disdainful sniff, though. “I do not care for cowards.”

“It’s the truth.”

“You truly believe that…”

The perplexed realization in Hux’s voice made Kylo look up. The face that greeted him was much less harsh than moments before, though it had lost none of its challenge and displeasure. “When have you known lead to break?”

“Every night, when the sun comes up,” Kylo answered honestly.

“Yet you are still whole.”

“I have a protector.”

“You do not seem in need of one.”

But that wasn’t true, Kylo was sure of it. He couldn’t believe that the weakness that was so deep rooted didn’t show on his face, or in his eyes. “I’ll break…” he croaked out again, one of the few certainties he had.

Hux pursed his lips and studied Kylo critically. Kylo endured the stare as best he could, and only released his breath when the doll spoke again.

“If you would not come up, then at least you will talk,” he declared. He stood up straight and lifted his chin. Though he looked quite majestic like this, Kylo deplored the small distance it added between them. “It has been so long since I have had good company, I miss conversation.”

And oh, but it was a mighty responsibility trusted on Kylo’s shoulders. He very much wanted to impress Hux, but an eternity spent in the bed’s Shadow had made a poor conversationalist out of him. Left to his own devices, he knew not what to say.

He thought of speaking of that which held his passion, as he knew common wisdom dictated. Yet telling the doll of years spent admiring him from a distance felt far too bold for a first meeting. Kylo didn’t know much, but he was confident of that.

So instead, he spoke of the second greatest beauty that ever held his attention. “I see moonlight, sometimes.”

The words sounded silly even to his own ears. His embarrassment was such that he wanted to murmur, yet he forced himself to speak up so that the doll might hear him.

Hux snorted, visibly unimpressed with Kylo’s confession. “So do I,” he said, voice full of confusion and slight condescension.

It hurt, mostly because for once Kylo knew he did not deserve it. It was beautiful, what he saw, and Hux needed to understand before he could lay judgment.

“Not as I do,” he corrected, gently if vehemently. “You only see it when it hits the ground or wraps around dust, or perhaps even when the curtain catches it when it carelessly floats in front of it. But I…”  He swallowed, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. “I blink sometimes, and the stream seeping through the curtain becomes an ocean. And it surrounds us, submerges us, though nothing drowns. Rather, it lifts everything – or it could if it but tried. And it’s wonderful.” It occurred to Kylo that he was not being very clear, yet he knew of no better way to describe it. “Sometimes, under the bed, I felt like I could reach out and let it carry me away. It would have been like flying, I think.”

Hux looked almost startled by Kylo’s words. It was rewarding, in a way, though not as much as the softness in his voice when he asked: “Why didn’t you?”

Kylo felt very sheepish, which was a kinder word for shame. “I thought I might shatter,” he explained, and this time he couldn’t stop his voice from dropping. “I am not meant for such heights.”

Hux snorted, though it sounded more like a scoff. “Yet here you are, on the second highest shelf, just below my own.” There was scorn in his voice as well, though Kylo hoped it was directed at his words rather than himself.

Hux studied him for a moment, head slightly tilted as he looked Kylo over. The glass shelf did little to shield Kylo from his gaze. It was far more piercing now that he was so close.

“You are so afraid that everything might break you,” Hux announced finally, with much certitude and judgment. “You shouldn’t be. You are not so fragile.”

Kylo recoiled at that. The untruth hurt more than scorn ever could. “You don’t know that.”

But Hux was unmoved. More than that, he was mad, and the words he had for Kylo were as harsh as his features. “You are made of metal, and in one full piece. I am of porcelain, and my insides are as hollow as any other like me. I can feel the echo whenever my feet touch the ground. Each step I take is a reminder of my own frailty.” He looked away, eyes burning with something under than anger. His voice dropped. “And you come, with your lead, and your sword; you could endure so much. You scar says that you have.” He looked back at Kylo, and reclaimed his composure with a deep breath. “So do not call yourself weak; it doesn’t endear you to me.”

Kylo looked down, feeling very much chastised by Hux’s words. And yet, he couldn’t believe himself to be wrong.

“You are unkind,” he said quietly, for the doll’s words had been brutal and cutting, and purposefully so.

Hux’s face remained expressionless. “It goes without saying. Unkindness is the price of truthfulness.”

That was a sad thought, in Kylo’s opinion. His own experience could not disprove it, but he had always thought it was because his truths were painful.

Hux, on the other hand, seemed far too high for any sorrow to reach.

“You are not frail,” he told the doll with as much confidence as he could muster.

“I am stating fact.”

“As am I. I speak of what I know.” Kylo smiled a little, and this time joked purposefully. “I take direction very well, you see?”

Hux stared for a moment, then snorted. “You make a good soldier, then.”

It was a compliment, Kylo could tell. The sparkle in green eyes told him as much. “Really?”

“Or perhaps not,” Hux reflected. “Too odd to be a pawn. If this were chess, I would make you a knight.”

Kylo didn’t fully understand what had been said, but felt warmed by it anyway. He smiled shyly. “I would like that.”

He was surprised to see Hux startle at that. For a moment, he thought he had done something wrong, but then realized that was not the case: the doll looked shock, but pleased all the same.

And then Hux’s face softened. He came to lie on his stomach and propped his head on his hands. “Tell me more of moonlight.”

And because Kylo was very good at taking directions, he did. He spoke of moonlight and dust and a thousand of other things

He spoke until the sun came up and he froze for the day, eyes locked on Hux’s face which was as soft as he has ever known it to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, all mistakes are mine!

Kylo stayed on that shelf for quite some time after that.

It was blissful.

Every night he would run to the edge of his wooden slate, and Hux would lean over the brink of the glass shelf. Kylo always remained standing, to be that much closer to the doll.

They talked, and not just of moonlight.

Hux spoke of chess one night, and how it delighted him. He spoke about all his strategies, how he spent the day devising them in order to execute them at night. He spoke of the thrill of watching a battle unfold as planned, and defeating a king through the mind alone.

Kylo thought it would be easier to simply stand on the board and tip over all the pieces. When he said as much, Hux told him he didn’t really understand the game.

On another night, Kylo talked about the kindly owl, how very wised he seemed. How Kylo sometimes wished to be like him, though perhaps not as an owl himself (the owl didn’t have hands; it seemed very impractical). Hux scoffed at the idea that one so old would be anything but decrepit. Kylo argued that since he didn’t know the owl, he couldn’t know for sure, and thus was only supposing.

Hux called him contrary again, but didn’t seem mad at all.

And one night, the cat hoped onto the shelf.

Kylo had recoiled, bringing his hand to his sword in alarm.

Though he didn’t know how he would do it, he was ready to chase it away at the first sign of danger. The feline’s steps may be silent and delicate, but it was still far larger than anyone else here. Though she was gentle, she could still be careless.

But Hux did not share his qualms, and he all but rushed to the cat’s side. He giggled as she nuzzled against him, and his hand came to scratch her neck as he nuzzled in return.

“Ah, Miss Millicent!” he greeted, as joyful as anything. “How do you do this evening?”

Seeing him so at ease reminded Kylo of the first night he saw them together, the night that had spurred him to climb the foot of the bed. At the time, Hux had already been confident, petting her nose and letting her sleep beside him.

Now though, he took it one step further, putting his neck right next to her jaw. It made Kylo anxious, despite him not wanting to question Hux’s judgement.

“You trust her so easily?” he asked, looking at the cat warily.

Hux barely seemed to notice as he cooed, scratching her chin. “She is a gem!”

“She is a cat!”

“Yes, that too,” Hux answered distractingly. He obviously was paying little attention to Kylo at all.

Kylo felt a sharp stab of jealousy at that.

He could have sworn that Millicent looked very smug as well.

“How have you been, since we last met?” Hux asked her, cocking his head to the side.

Millicent didn’t answer of course, because she was a cat. That didn’t bother Hux though, as he continued to have a very one-sided conversation with her.

Kylo watched on, his jealousy tampered by amusement at seeing his doll so changed. He was softer with her, and much less guarded. Kylo adored it.

He supposed that if Millicent was the one to bring that side out of Hux, he couldn’t hate her entirely. More importantly, it would please Hux if the two of them got along.

“Hello, Millicent,” he said, stepping forward and calling on all the cordiality within his small body – it wasn’t much, he had little practice in being cordial. “It is very nice to meet you.”

Millicent turned to face him. Her brown eyes trailed lazily over Kylo. She blinked once, slowly.

Then she turned around and hoped down from the shelf, onto the chair and then the carpet, and made her way to the door.

How very rude of her!

“That was polite of you,” Hux commented approvingly.

In other circumstances, Kylo would have preened under the praise. As it was, he huffed and crossed his arms. “She certainly wasn’t.”

“Oh hush!” Hux exclaimed, brushing his protest aside. “It is her way. I think she is quite fond of you, actually.

“She is very tall,” Kylo said as he watched her go. “I feared her so.”

“You feared many things,” Hux commented, not for the first time. He huffed out a humorless laugh, and his next question was filled with irony. “Do you not believe the world to be kinder than that?”

Such scorn was becoming familiar now. Kylo believed it to be an integral part of the fierce little doll, though whether it was innate or acquired he couldn’t know, nor ask. It was simply Hux’s way.

It was the familiarity of it that kept the hurt at bay. It was the hurt kept at bay that made Kylo realize the scorn wasn’t directed towards him this time.

“Do you?” he asked in lieu of an answer, cocking his head to the side and looking at Hux straight in the eyes.

He very well knew the answer to his question. It was only confirmed when Hux recoiled visibly, when his face turned pained, then hard, the rueful. And all three at once. It was years of unspoken emotions rising to the surface, all too impatient to be expressed to wait their turn.

“I’m stuck up here, aren’t I?” Hux answered, voice toneless from too much feeling. It pained Kylo to be the one to have caused it.

It pained him even more to know there was little he could do in return.

“I would be kind to you,” he said in a small voice, because though his offering was honest it was small too.

What worth in the kindness of a broken thing?

Not much at all, Kylo thought.

But Hux laughed a sad laugh, smiled a sad smile, and spoke with such fondness and reverence that it might have meant he thought otherwise. “You already are,” he said, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

He came to kneel on the glass, bent over the edge even more. From a closer distance, Kylo could see added softness to his features, brought by vulnerability. Specks of grey in his green eyes, brought by melancholy. Lips parted open instead of in a hard line.

He looked beautiful like that.

It was terrible, how beautiful he looked in sadness.

“Then I wish to continue,” Kylo whispered through the tightness in his throat and heart. “For as long as you would let me.”

Hux let out a breath and smiled. His eyes bore into Kylo’s, unreadable apart from the longing that was pouring out of them.

“Won’t you climb up?” he asked, voice more quiet and more fragile than Kylo had ever heard it before.

“I’m not brave enough,” Kylo answered, drowning in his shame.

“Won’t you fly?”

“I don’t know how,” he explained, feeling his own failings like a knife.

Hux sighed. “I thought you saw moonlight,” he lamented. Once again teasing. Once again so sad.

“Moonlight isn’t kind, though.” Kylo whispered.

Had it been, it would have cloaked him in light and held him together. It would have whispered its secrets and let him be strong. Or it would have turned away completely, and let Kylo forget there was anything other than darkness.

Instead, it had let him watch, and know all that he would never have, and never be.

How cruel, then, that Kylo still loved it so.

But he did not wish to linger on his pain, not when Hux’s was still so visible in front of him. Not when the cunning tactician, the brilliant and the proud was being so diminished by sorrow. When his shoulders sagged and his head dropped, and it was most certainly Kylo’s fault.

“Sometimes I wonder if you are real at all,” Hux whispered, like a confession. “Something I wished up to stem my loneliness. Or a shade of your cruel moonbeam.”

“I am real!” Kylo assured, reassured, cried out. He thrust his hand towards the sky, towards Hux. His fingers outstretched, his legs trembling from the strain, he reached out. “See how real I am!”

It was so important that he prove it to Hux. So important that he give him the only certitude he could give.

Hux reached down as well, laid on his stomach and stretched his arm as far as it could go. Even like this, their hands could barely touch. The tip of their fingers brushed against each other, both their gloves preventing them from feeling skin.

But it was enough

“See?” Kylo asked breathlessly. His arm was trembling from the strain. He was ready to spend an eternity like this.

Hux looked at him, and let out a sigh that was both relief and wonder. “You are very real indeed.”

Kylo swallowed. “So are you.”

Hux opened his mouth, closed it, and reluctantly removed his hands.

Kylo lowered his slowly, never looking away from Hux as he did. Hux kept on looking too.

They stood like that for a long time.

There was so much Kylo wanted to say.

“I would learn to be brave for you,” he murmured, hoping those inadequate words would still be understood.

Hux did understand. Kylo knew it, because he smiled sadly and nodded resolutely, and spoke in a vow that matched Kylo’s own. “I would learn to be kind.”

They didn’t speak after that. Daytime came much too soon.

As did fate, which was careless and cruel in its own right.

It once again came in the form of careless hands that picked Kylo up. Eyes that scrutinized him, voices that deafened him.

Most terribly of all, feet that so easily carried him away from the shelf.

_“Is this it?”_

_“Yeah. George found it a while back.”_

Kylo couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Had he been able to, he would have cried out for Hux, twisted himself to be able to meet his eyes.

But he couldn’t do any of that.

_“It’s pretty old. Vintage even. Could be worth something.”_

_“I thought so too. Could look it up.”_

_“Yeah, we should. Put it on the bedside table, so we don’t forget about it again.”_

Kylo wanted to tell them they were mistaken. That he was not precious, nor valuable.

More importantly, he did not wish to be if it meant being pulled away from Hux.

But it didn’t matter what Kylo wanted. It never had.

The hand that took him placed him on the bedside table, facing the wall, and he could not fight it.

He was so very small.

And when night came and he could move once more, he despaired at how high the table, and how far the distance. He could barely see Hux from here, just his silhouette in colors, once enough but now unbearably little.

He fell to his knees, futilely stretched his hand.

Oh, but what he would give for moonlight!

_Ah, child, how fortunate for you!_

Kylo startled at the voice, once so familiar but now strange to his ears.

The Shadow had come for him already. He could see its tendrils snaking up the white wood of the bedside table, slowly making their way to him.

He knew the sight should have filled him with reassurance. Instead, he felt only dread.

“I am not lucky!” he protested. Despair made him bold enough to disagree, and reckless enough not to care. “He is so far again!”

 _And far he’ll remain,_ It said gently. Its tendrils came to brush against Kylo’s face on both sides, demanding his attention by obscuring anything else. _You are so close to breaking already._

It was true. It had to be, because Kylo had tasted bliss, and now that it was gone he was ready to choke on the nothingness.

 _Come back to me,_ the Shadow continued, even as Kylo shook his head. _In my coils, in my care. You will forget again, and the unpleasantness will fade._

“I don’t want to forget!” Kylo cried out, looking wildly toward the shelf, then back to the Shadow. “I want to go back!”

Then the whole of his Protector’s words caught up with him. He felt his stomach turn heavy with dread. “Again…?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

The Shadow’s anger was a physical thing, deafening and freezing and all the terrible fear and loneliness that made Kylo gasp in pain and clench at his heart.

 _Foolish thing!_ It roared, turning darker with each word. It churned and pulsed and grew, and Kylo was scared. _Ungrateful wretch! Have I not been kind to you?_

The tendrils kept on coming, and Kylo scrambled to a stand to keep them from coming any further. The shadow was big, so big, and he had to stumbled back to keep a tendril from grabbing his leg.

_Have I not been merciful?_

Kylo backed away even more as the Shadow kept advancing. He stopped when he bumped against the hard wall. It hurt.

 _You grow too insolent,_ it hissed. _You lose sight of what you are. My toy, my possession, I will remind you!_

There was no way out now. Kylo couldn’t back away any further, couldn’t fight at all. There was nothing to do as the Shadow surrounded him, save lifting his chin and facing the horror with bravery.

He wasn’t brave.

He closed his eyes.

Arms wrapped around him, and lifted him.

Kylo cried out. He began to struggle, hitting and kicking blindly in efforts to get free, because no, no, he didn’t want to go back, he wanted to go to Hux and the shelf and the hands-

The hands were warm. And furry. And most certainly not the Shadow’s.

He looked up wildly, and instead of ominous darkness, he found a stuffed bear lit by moonlight.

Its hair was long and shabby, adding more softness to his already plush body. It hanged around his eyes and from his ears, though not enough to hide its age. Kylo could see the slightly droopy eyes, the left ear which had been half-chewed.

The Shadow tried to grab them, grab Kylo, but the bear was quick despite its size. It dodged, clutched Kylo close.

The Shadow tried again, its tendrils moving a stab this time.

A beam of moonlight fell onto the table, cutting the darkness’ path. Kylo watched with wide eyes as the whips of shadow shattered upon contact, becoming shards then dust then nothing at all. The Shadow screamed in outrage, voice shrill and sharp.

The bear paid it no heed as it made its way to the edge of the bedside table. With one hand resting over Kylo’s head, it jumped.

Kylo yelped.

The fall was cushioned by its soft paws and the plush rug, so much so that Kylo was barely jostled. The bear started running as soon as its feet hit the ground.

Looking over its shoulder, Kylo watched the bed grow further and further away, the Shadow kept at bay by moonlight.

“Thank you,” he whispered, forcing himself to look away.

The bear growled in an odd mixture of pitches. It was loud, and earnest, and completely wordless. Yet Kylo was surprised to find he could understand it.

And was stunned that something so big could be so gentle.

“I am alright,” he said in answer to the bear’s concern. “What is your name?”

The bear growled again, a string of syllables Kylo understood but did not comprehend. It was probably its name, he decided, though it sounded much too complicated for him to say.

But that wouldn’t do. He had to call the bear _something._

He reached up to stroke its face. Gingerly, of course, because it was rather rude to do so without permission. But the bear didn’t seem to mind, and so Kylo’s fingers traced around the drooping eyes and half-chewed ear.

“Your ear is a bit broken.” _Like me,_ he didn’t add. “I would call you Chewie.”

The bear’s answering growl sounded very pleased. It patted Kylo on the head, and pressed his face against its fur. The gesture could have been smothering, had it not been full of gentleness and comfort instead.

Perhaps the world was not kind, but the bear most certainly was.

Kylo let out a sigh, and trusted Chewie to lead him to safety.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless self-promotion time!
> 
> If you like this fic, you may enjoy [The Divine and The Dark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6304948), a Hade and Persephone AU of mine in a similar style. I also have a longer WIP going on, the [Lords of Wild Space series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/457636).
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, all mistakes are mine!

The bear never stopped running, his pace never faltered. Through the vast desert of the off-white carpet, past the river of a fallen scarf and the cave of a discarded cup, its steps were so smooth that Kylo found himself half-lulled into sleep. He only perked back into alertness when a wall came into view. It smelled of leather and wood, and was somehow comforting for all that it was meant to keep people away.

A barricade of open books.

The bear climbed it with an ease that betrayed years of habit. It must have been a very adventurous bear.

Kylo buried his head in the bear’s fur for the entire way up and down, only looking up when the bear cried out in happiness and victory.

And Kylo gasped.

There was a castle in front of him, red and brown and made of open windows and doors. There was light coming from the inside, a glimpse of white curtains visible on the top floor. It smelled of wood and cloth and of a five-year old’s elaborate fantasies.

And on the doorstep was a woman, dressed in white, who held herself high for all that she was small. When she looked upon Kylo, he felt both treasured and humbled

There was poise in her. And grace. And kindness, and all that was good in the Universe.

She was a Princess. This he knew for sure.

“Oh, my dear child!” she breathed out at the sight of him. “Come in, come in! »

Before he could say a word, the Princess laid a hand on his shoulder. Touching, not gripping; it was such an alien sensation that Kylo was powerless to resist her guidance.

“Are you hurt?” she asked as she ushered him inside, somehow managing to guide him with her arms despite being so much smaller than him.

“I am fine,” he answered slowly. Her worry confused him.

“I saw what that Shadow did to you,” she continued. “We all did, but Chewie was the only one big enough to make it in time and-”

“You call him Chewie too?”

She blinked at that, and looked sad. “Most do.”

Kylo might have felt foolish at that, for he had believed it to be a special name that had come from within him. The princess’ words proved him wrong, and very bluntly at that. Yet he found little room for embarrassment when he looked upon her, at her gentle, pained face that held far more secrets than he could tell.

There was a world of meaning behind her words, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. It was as if entering the sanctity of the castle had released some dam within him, leaving all the weariness that he had kept at bay free to flood him. His knees were shaking from barely repressed exhaustion, making him all but collapse on the sofa behind him.

He might have been embarrassed at displaying such weakness in front of a stranger, but right then it didn’t seem to matter all that much. In this strange state of grief and exhaustion, it seemed that little would be able to reach him.

Yet despite that, he still felt very raw.

It was strange. And unpleasant.

“Who are you?” he asked. It was not the kindest way to speak to a host, he realized a moment later. He did nothing to amend that though.

The princess seemed to hesitate in her answer. There was a manner of restraint to her, invisible to the eye but that Kylo could see all the same. When she took a seat on the chair in front of him, he could tell that she had wanted to come closer but for some reason hadn’t allowed herself to. “My name is Leia.”

He nodded once. “I’m Kylo,” he answered, barely above a whisper.

It seemed like such an inadequate response, somehow, yet the Princess drank his words with undisguised contentment,

“Kylo…” she breathed out, like it was the most wonderful thing she had ever heard. “Do you need anything? There is a lot left from when the child used to play. Teacups and plates and blanket. Anything that might soothe you.”

“I can’t eat. Nor drink. And what cold I have felt has never been on the skin.” And as he said it, it seemed so unfair. Why should he not have such things? Why should he have to content himself with dreams and fantasies and the tip of his fingers barely touching what he wanted most?

Why should he be the eternally denied?

All he had ever wanted was a place on a shelf, a place away from the dark and the loneliness he thought he deserved. He had thought himself so greedy for it. So craven, to even dream of what was far beyond his due.

So of course, his mind supplied ridiculous pictures of impossible things. Of course, he spent his waking hours craving sweetness that could never be. In his fantasies, moonlight curled around him and lifted him high.

But he was of lead. He was never meant to fly.

“Why do you have such useless things?” he asked, demanded, angry tears pearling at the corner of his eyes. The unfairness of it all chaffed at him, left him raw and bleeding. It was a new sort of pain, one that left him feel like he was burning rather than hollow.

It was fire and smoke and suffocating bile, a debt long overdue. So many years he had made himself miserable rather than outraged, so long he had been made longing rather than demanding.

But no more. He wanted to have, he wanted to cry out as well as cry.

He wanted to be violent.

It was what little restraint he had that made him use words instead of the sword at his side.

He almost regretted it, because his words seemed to have little effect. The Princess still smiled, still looked sad and his behalf. It made him feel so ineffectual, even in his anger.

“They do seem useless, don’t they?” she mused. It would have sounded patronizing coming from any lips other than hers. “But even if it’s just pretend… To share a warm meal and snuggle under blankets, in the safety of a house and in the company of… others.”

That last word wasn’t the one she had wanted to use, he could tell. He didn’t press the issue, instead watching as her expression turned even more melancholic. “I knew a boy who enjoyed it, once,” she murmured, and there was a smile on her lips despite the profound sadness in her eyes.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would like,” he answered, cloaking himself in sullen defiance. If he wasn’t careful, he would feel sympathy, and that was not a weakness he could allow himself.

“And that is fine,” she answered calmly. “I only wish your well-being.”

“Am I to pretend to be well, then?”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

Kylo knew that, of course. He wished he didn’t; it would be much easier if she were cruel.

Or perhaps not. But after so long spent submitting himself to the wicked, he longed for a chance to stand his ground, to reveal his strength to the world and himself.

Had he not promised Hux to be brave? How could he prove himself worthy without an enemy in front of him?

He had been a knight too frightened to use his sword, and now that he dared there were no dragons for him to slay.

(Not true, though, but his dragon laid curled in Its cave, with coils and teeth and terrible venom, and he wasn’t certain he could face It yet, or if he ever could. There was still such shame to him.)

“I feel far too venomous to be well.” The words were much more of a confession than he wanted it to be.

“If I can help cleans that venom, I will.”

“Or you could leave me in peace,” he spat out.

The Princess never looked angry, never even frowned. Kylo couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand why she came to sit beside him instead of turn away from him. Couldn’t understand why she would take his hand in hers and he would be the one to flinch at the touch.

“Loneliness isn’t peace,” she said, her soft voice far more powerful than any of his screams.

Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes again. “I’m not lonely,” he lied.

“I would be, if I left you.”

He had to pull away at that. Her touch was too warm, it burned him. “You don’t know me. How could you feel anything at my absence?”

He met her eyes, meant to challenge her. Yet he met her gaze, and saw love once more. It was so different from the one he had hoped to glimpse in Hux’s eyes.

It disarmed him just as effectively.

“You care so much,” he let out, his voice a croak. “Why?”

“Must I have a reason?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes were so calm, so gentle; how did she do it? “That’s a sad thought.”

Kylo looked away, cheeks burning. “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar!” he spat out, turning away in full. He paced as he spoke, anger and nervous energy forbidding him from keeping still. “I know your breed now. Claims of care, of protection. All gentle touches and soft voices. Like the Shadow, but it was a lie. An eternity under that bed, and in all that time It could never bring Itself to truly care. And you who just met me, you would feel concern?!”

Hux had been harsh, as was his nature to be. It took weeks for him to gentle and soothe, for him to care for Kylo a fraction of how much Kylo cared for him. The Shadow had been soothing, like sweet incense tossed in an execution pyre. Affection much longed for in one case, never existing in the other, both of them teaching the most important lesson of all.

In this life there was no love that did not have to be fought for, and then after that couldn’t be cruelly denied afterwards.

Kylo’s tragedy was that he desperately wanted it, even so.

“I am a weak, dim thing,” he finished, voice as raw as his heart, “but I am capable of learning. And the world isn’t kind.”

He could see the upset his words caused. He could see the sorrow on the princess’ face, could see the bear grow restless in destress. For two people who were so obviously made to be happy, his words were an abomination.

Yet he couldn’t feel sorry for it. The wound in his heart was far too deep, and all the gentleness in him had poured out of it. Bitterness had taken its place, making it so hard to be as kind as he knew he should be. He felt so wretched for it.

What good would he be to Hux now?

He had _promised._

Tears stung at his eyes.

Perhaps everything was to poor out of him now, leaving him an empty husk, more useless still than what had come before and that could never hope to see Hux again. One that might be lucky enough to wither away.

A small hand came to rest on his shoulder, and there was such strength to it that Kylo nearly fell to his knees. But the Princess’ eyes demanded that he stand, that he look at her and listen.

And for all that he was slow, he had learned quickly enough that he could never refuse her.

“That Shadow is cruel,” she said slowly, eyes burning with grief, love and determination all at once. “It is greedy, and can only feel strong by making others feel weak. But never, ever believe that it was correct. Or that you deserved it.”

“You cannot say such things and expect me to believe you. I… I wanted to.”

His voice had hitched because he was choking on his shame.

“And that is wonderful.”

“It is _weak_.”

“It is not,” she disagreed, gently and firmly. “There is strength in being kind. Courage in accepting the kindness of others.”

Kylo shook his head, yet he couldn’t keep the word out completely. Despite his best efforts, they echo in his mind, rang against his heart and filled it with hope that he could fulfill his vow to Hux after all.

Oh, how he wished them to be true! But oh, how well he knew not to believe lies any longer!

But the Princess didn’t relent. “To accept the kindness of others is to believe it is real. To believe it is real is to not let yourself become hard, even after all that you have endured.”

“I have never thought myself as anything but brittle,” Kylo all but whimpered, voice filled with disbelief and tears. He looked down, though he knew it would do little to hide his weakness. “And you tell me that is bravery?”

“Yes.”

The simplicity of that answer struck him. It struck him, because for all that he strained to detect a lie, he found in it nothing but truth.

And though she was wrong, so wrong, he couldn’t block out her words entirely. They had wormed their way into him, echoing within the empty parts of him until they filled him completely. And word turned into thought, turned into desire, turned into drive.

Kylo was not brave. But he so wanted to be.

He had promised to try, after all.

He had little idea of how to go about it. He didn’t trust his own judgement, though the Princess might make him believe he had accidently been brave all along. He still wasn’t convinced that were true, but it was heartening to believe that he might be capable of bravery after all.

Whatever the case though, he couldn’t stop now.

He had to, at the very least, dare to look up.

The Princess’ eyes never lost their kindness, her features kept hold of their benevolence, and because it was easier to be brave when there were no enemies to fight, Kylo found himself daring to ask for what he never thought possible.

“Will you help me?”

“Anything.”

So simple. So easy.

Had there always be such kindness in the world, if one were just to step outside of Shadows?

But perhaps….

If what he desired was out of reach, then he would have to take a step closer, wouldn’t he?

“I must go back to him,” he murmured to himself, the resolution strengthening in his mind with each word.

The Princess frowned. “The Shadow? Why would you-”

“No! Hux!” Kylo corrected her. He felt fervor coming within him once more. “If I can stand in this word on my own, then there is no reason not to do so at his side!”

“Hux?” the Princess repeated with a frown. “I don’t know who that is.”

Kylo opened his mouth to answer, but another voice beat him to it.

“He’s the one that stays on the shelf so he can literally look down on all of us.”

Kylo’s head snapped towards the source of that response, an old man leaning against the doorframe. If the callous response hadn’t already raised his ire, then the man’s demeanor would have been enough. Arms crossed, a scoff on his lips, everything translating scorn for the doll Kylo loved.

Kylo met the man’s gaze with a glare, one that turned only more furious when he saw the look on his face.

It was the sheer _intent_ behind his eyes. Like he was eager for Kylo’s response.

“He doesn’t stay up there by choice,” Kylo said through gritted teeth. He did not wish to rise to the bait, for he knew Hux would be displeased.

His love had once commented on his tendency to shift from despondence to fury on a moment’s notice (Kylo had very much disliked being told he didn’t understand chess.) It was a character flaw Kylo had sworn to improve. With little success, he had to admit.

The man in front of him certainly didn’t help.

“No?” the older man asked, but Kylo could tell he wasn’t curious. “Huh. Doesn’t make him any more likeable.”

That didn’t matter. Kylo liked him more than enough to make up for it. He loved enough to pay the whole debt of love the world owed to Hux. “You do not know him. I don’t care for your opinion, whoever you are.”

That gave the man pause. “The name’s Han. Han Solo,” he said finally. The roughness of his voice had taken on a new edge, like it got caught on a tightness in his throat. “And you?”

 “Kylo.”

“Odd name for a knight.”

Kylo lifted his chin. “I could say the same if I had an idea of what you were.”

“I’m a space pirate.”

“There’s no such thing.”

Han raised an eyebrow. “Kid, we’re toys.”

Kylo couldn’t think of proper rebuttal for that, so he decided to ignore the man entirely.

“I need to get up there,” he said instead, turning back towards the Princess. “You need to help me.”

She bit her lip. “You ask for a lot.”

Kylo clenched his teeth. “You claimed to care.”

“We care!” the Princess blurted out, composure shattering for just a moment. It came by together a second later, but now that Kylo had seen it break, he could see the cracks in it, just like on his face.

Except her cracks did not make her unlovable. It was the opposite, if anything, for they showed her honesty, her resolve. Her pain as well, because of him. For him. She had been so kind to him, even when she had no reason to. She had approached him, embraced him, even though all she got for her troubles were his tears and his venom.

She had reached out to him again, at the moment of her outburst. Her hand raised in the air, offering herself once again. Giving him the choice not to accept. And when Kylo didn’t take it, too overcome by emotions to dare, she had lowered it slowly. Yet Kylo knew that he would be welcome to take hold of it the moment he wished to.

In that moment, Kylo understood that this woman would bleed for him.

And he didn’t understand why.

 “We care,” she repeated more softly, fervently, eyes boring into his as if to will him into understanding. “So much so that we don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I am hurt, constantly,” he said softly. “I will only not be hurt again when I am at his side.”

“And can we not even heal you a little?”

“You can. I want you to.” He felt himself come close to tears again. “But I want him as well.”

It was selfish of him. He knew it, he regretted it.

But he wasn’t sorry.

They stood in silence for a long time. Until the space pirate let out a laugh that was fond and sad.

Kylo turned to look at him, and couldn’t read the expression on his face. He didn’t move as the man who was older than he should be began walking towards him.

“Stubborn. Headstrong. Infuriating.” Each flaw spoken in a voice that grew hoarser and hoarser, that should have been condemning but wasn’t. Each word punctuated by a step towards Kylo, until the old man was but inches away from him and cupped Kylo’s cheek in his hand. Rough skin, a gentle touch, both that almost brought Kylo to tears again.

“Like all that I love,” the old man whispered, and Kylo wanted to fall to his knees at those words he knew he didn’t fully understand but treasured all the same.

He was too full of feelings again; it paralyzed him, left him looking at the hard-soft face of the old space pirate who was smaller than Kylo but felt much bigger; left Kylo waiting for the old man to make the first move even as he feared for the moment to end.

The hand on his face pulled away, and Kylo found himself chasing it with his cheek.

He didn’t succeed, of course. Cheeks have a rather short reach.

“You won’t have time to leave tonight,” the man announced, putting back on a mask of gruffness. “The sun is almost up. We’ll go tomorrow.”

For a moment, Kylo could only blink. Couldn’t speak. It was only when the space pirate pulled away that he was spurred into action.

 “Wait! I….” he stammered, reaching out with his hand though the man was already too far away to touch. “I don’t …”

“I’ll help you,” the space pirate interrupted. His voice never strayed from gentleness “Whatever you need.”

Then he nodded once, somewhat awkwardly, and made his way towards the exit.

Kylo made no move to stop him, though he watched him leave until he disappeared from his sight completely.

“Don’t be upset by him leaving,” the Princess whispered softly as she came up beside him. “The consequences of his own actions scare him, and he cannot quite face them.” She put a hand on Kylo’s back; he didn’t brush her away. “But he is a good man. A brave man. In the end, he doesn’t let his fear prevent him from action.”

Kylo nodded in response, throat too tight to speak. He felt the Princess’ hand pull away, heard her leave him to his thoughts.

He didn’t turn.

He stared at the barricade of fallen books, at all that he couldn’t see beyond.

How long he stood in the doorway, he didn’t know. Halfway in, halfway out, face turned towards the outside and mind turned towards one goal.

Tomorrow a quest began. Tomorrow, he would leave to find Hux.

Tomorrow…

He spoke the word out loud, felt the weight of it on its tongue and the taste of it on his lips.

It was the first time he made plans for a future, instead of dreaming of things that would never be. It was a frightening feeling.

Kylo found that he enjoyed it very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter may take a little longer to get out, as I am starting a new internship tomorrow! Just a head's up! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, all mistakes are mine

When evening came, Kylo was standing at the top of the barricade, looking over the largeness of the room and willing it to grow smaller.

It didn’t work, of course, though perhaps it was for the better. Though he tried to avoid it, his eyes kept straying back towards the bed, towards the below where wickedness creeped.

He had spent the entirety of the previous night keeping vigil at the top of the palace, alert for any movement from the Shadow. But it hadn’t stirred, hadn’t even made to chase Chewie and him as he had been carried to safety. When he asked the Princess, she told him the Shadow had never made a move out of its bounds, save for once long ago.

Kylo had been relieved to hear it. Just as part of him was relieved by the largeness of the room, for all that it lengthened his journey to Hux.

A large room gave them enough berth to go far around.

A large room meant never going near the bed again.

He heard steps coming from behind him, someone hosting themselves up on the barricade. He didn’t turn around.

“Are you ready to go, kid?” the space pirate asked. He spoke softly, though there was a gruffness to his voice that was difficult to miss.

“Are you?” Kylo replied easily. He turned to face him. “You don’t want to do this.”

Han Solo shrugged; it seemed somewhat forced. “I wish it were different. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to do this.”

Kylo kept on looking at him. The space pirate wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “There is something you are not telling me. Either of you.” In another time, he might have sounded accusing; right now, the certainty simply added to the weary melancholy that filled him so.

He sighed, turning back towards the shelf in the distance. “I have grown tired of things unsaid.”

Behind him, Han Solo shifted. “Tell you what: we get you back to the doll, you get your happy reunion. And then we work on getting you both down safely.” A deep breath. “And then we talk.”

It wasn’t the best offer, but it was a fair one. Kylo accepted it with a nod, before turning towards the castle behind him.

The Princess was watching them from the doorstep. She wouldn’t come, because someone had to guard the castle. Because her skills were best used coordinating from a distance, and Kylo had a feeling there was an entire army he hadn’t seen, made of those who truly fought the shadows.

Kylo wasn’t one of them. He would never meet them.

The Princess had already said her goodbyes. Silently, warmly, with a hug and a kiss that nearly made Kylo weep from the tenderness of it.

He had tried to return the gesture, had felt so clumsy doing so, but the Princess didn’t seem to mind. She had laughed with sad joy, had brushed the tear prickling at the corner of his eye. Her own eyes shone as well, but when Kylo tried to give her comfort she shook her head, and kissed his forehead again.

Then she took a step back, and allowed him to leave her.

Kylo would miss her; he felt it so keenly.

Chewie climbed on top of the barricade, a bag swung over his shoulder.

Time to go, then.

They began their journey with a step, as is quite common for most journeys. And then other, and other, past the barricade of fallen books and into the vast carpet plain, where there was nothing save for a broken pencil and a few discarded shoes.

Kylo stared at the one furthest away, with its tall heal and the deep plunge of its arcade. It looked rather like a slide, he thought, though he had little notion of how accurate the comparison was.

He had never seen a slide in real life, had no idea what happened once children reached the end of it. Maybe they flew away, carried by the momentum.

The vague idea of sliding down the shoe then back up to Hux flickered through his mind, but instinct told him it probably wasn’t going to work, so he said nothing.

They walked for a while longer. Exactly how long he couldn’t tell, but long enough for his anxiousness to take on the shade of restless boredom. Nothing was happening, but Kylo was not good enough at optimism to believe it would remain that way.

It was all too simple. Too easy.

Was there not supposed to be a fight at the high point of mighty journeys? Would he even be able to handle it, if there were to be one? He had no memory of ever leaning how to use his sword, but he hoped the knowledge was ingrained within him anyhow.

Hux might find him very impressive if he were good enough with it. He might even _kiss_ him for it.

Kylo would like that.

He would like that _very_ much.

But oh, here he was hoping for adversity, and that was such a stupid thing to do! The universe, ever deaf to his wishes, might just decide to head him this time around!

Kylo felt very nervous all of a sudden. So much so that he couldn’t quite contain it, and a sound between a moan and a grunt escaped from his throat.

“What’s the matter, kid?” the space pirate asked, eye brows furrowing in concern.

“It’s taking so long,” he half-mumbled, half-groaned.  He knew sounded petty but was too restless to care.

“We’re going as fast as we can,” Han Solo answered testily.

The rightful irritation made Kylo feel slightly abashed. It didn’t stop his own impatience though. “Aren’t you a space pirate?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you have a spaceship?”

“Some kid called Plutt stole it on the playground. I’ve been stranded ever since.”

Kylo nodded once, acknowledging the answer but disinclined to reply.

There might have been silence then, but instead the space pirate cleared his throat. “So, this Hux guy….”

Kylo tensed. “What about him?”

“You haven’t known him for all that long...” The way Han Solo let his voice trail off held far more meaning and judgement than a thousand words.

“Your point?”

“You barely know him, but you’re rushing back to him. It doesn’t make much sense, is all I’m saying.”

“The world is full of nonsensities. At least mine is lovely rather than cruel.”

Han Solo looked startled for a moment. Then he nodded, once. Slowly, deliberated. Satisfied and resigned.

It wasn’t an unhappy gesture. But nor was it an approving one.

Kylo thought he knew why. The man had made his sentiments about Hux very clear.

“Why don’t you like him?” he asked, voice small.

He feared the answer, for all that he needed to hear it.

The space pirate looked away. “Because he would take from us what we lost long ago,” he answered, voice heavy. “And he didn’t even have to try.”

Kylo would have asked him to explain, had he not been cut off by someone’s scream.

It took him a moment to recognize Hux’s voice.

“Kylo! Watch out!”

He looked up at the doll, surprised that he could hear him so well. Then the words clicked in his brain, and his head snapped towards what Hux was looking at with such horror.

Chewie growled. Han Solo cursed.

And Kylo felt himself freeze.

He had thought of battle, so this was his fault. His fault his fault his fault but he hadn’t believed… had hoped…

Had the Shadow only let him go merely to better crush him later?

For there it was, stretching far and wide and with no moonlight to stop it, for there were too many clouds in the sky. It was coming fast, and unstoppable, like a wave of thick oil. Kylo felt echoes of its taint on his skin, where he had let it touch and grab him and had thought it gentle.

There was noise around him, miles away and through deep water. Shouts and growls and curses, maybe against the Shadow, maybe against him, but Kylo couldn’t focus on any of it.

All he could focus on were the tendrils and their claws, how any second from now they would come and snatch him, dragging him back below the bed to cower and weep and forget...

He was forced back by a smack of paw on his chest.

He stumbled back, nearly tripped over his own feet when a hand caught him on the wrist.

The space pirate looked at him with an intensity that promised danger and a grin that promised success. “Better start running, kid!”

Before he could say anything else, Han Solo tugged him forward into a sprint. Chewie followed them close behind. It would have been faster if the bear could have carried both of them, but alas they were too heavy for that.

So Chewie watched their back and stalled the Shadow bur throwing wood splinters he had taken back with him from a trip to the forest.

They had a plan. Kylo didn’t know the entirety of the plan – he had been too anxious to fully listen – but he knew they needed to make it to the radiator. Then climb it, get higher ground near the shelf.

It wasn’t that big a distance, even for those as small as them.

But for a thing as big as the Shadow, it was smaller still.

Kylo cried out in fear as their path was abruptly cut off by a whip of smoke and dust. He stumbled back, ripping his hand out of the space pirate’s grip to better dodge.

It worked, but fear made him clumsy, made him trip over his own feet.

He hit his head as he fell. It hurt.

He put a hand to his side, where the Shadow had grazed him.

It _burned._

He needed to get up. He knew that, but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t get his vision to clear.

Darkness was gathering. Black creeping at the edge of his eyes, threatening to swallow him.

And Kylo limbs _wouldn’t move._

He tried though. He even managed to get to his knees, but the Shadow was so close now. Kylo struggled, scrambled, for he didn’t want to lose, didn’t want Hux to see him lose, not on his knees like this, not -

There was a thud, then a crash.

Hux shouting: “Kylo!”

And then the chess pieces flew over them, hurling themselves straight towards the Shadow. Kylo looked around in confusion as he picked himself up., saw the chess board tipped over on the floor next to a box that had previously been on the shelf.

Above him, Hux was looking at the chess pieces with grim satisfaction, yelling orders at them even as they hit the Shadow relentlessly, cutting off the its tendrils a thousand times over.

“What a guy!” Han yelled with a sneer, though he didn’t hesitate taking advantage of the path the pawns cleared for them. “Using them as fodder!”

A passing pawn clattering on the ground told them that being fodder was their job, really, and it didn’t mind. It then went on to smash against wisp of darkness that was headed for Chewie.

“The Shadow can’t take them,” Kylo reasoned aloud. He looked up at Hux for confirmation, though of course the doll could not hear him. “Their loss would be noticed, and the under-bed searched.”

Han’s grunt was the only response he received.

They kept on running.

They were getting closer, but the chess pieces were quickly getting beaten back. They were no match for the Shadow, and what advantage numbers gave them couldn’t last forever. The Shadow may be bound to the floor, but that weakness meant nothing when the floor was the battle ground.

All too soon, the chess pieces were beaten. Hux was yelling at them to regroup, but only a few stirred.

The Shadow surged forward, all pretense of discretion forgotten as it stretched its tendrils out. It covered the carpet like foul pollution, and no matter how far it stretched it never seemed to grow thinner.

It would keep on coming. It would never stop, and Kylo…

Kylo couldn’t run forever.

He had stepped out of the darkness. He had resisted his own fear.

And now he would fight. By the witness of his doll and the bear, of a pirate of faceless chess pieces and of the Shadow itself. By the side his allies and in the face of his enemies, both of whom had taught him bravery, he would fight.

For he was a soldier made of steel. He was a knight who saw moonlight.

And though the night was dark, his blade shone bright.

It was red when he unsheathed it, like Hux’s hair. 

The blade cut through the tendril with dreadful ease, making it turn to dust in but a moment.

And Kylo smiled.

Then had to stumble back as the Shadow roared its pain and outrage

 _I gave you that sword!_ It hissed with its many mouths. _And you would use it against me!_

It swiped at him again, and again Kylo parried. His own body felt like a stranger, his own movements unfamiliar yet honed through practice.

It confused him greatly, but he couldn’t dwell on it. Not through the fear and the battle and the pain of such bile coming from someone who he thought loved him.

_Ungrateful wretch! You are a plague on those who would keep you!_

Don’t listen, he thought desperately. Don’t listen, don’t trust, don’t hurt.

“You’re lying!”

_I carved it when the moon was red! I made the blade and the guard, and gave it to you to use!_

“No, no!” Kylo protested, bringing the blade in front of him. Another barrier between him and the Shadow’s voice. “I would have remembered!”

And the Shadow laughed. It mocked him with such disdain Kylo was shocked he had never recognized it before. It was the contempt one felt towards possessions that were not worth the ownership.

 _What good are your memories?_ It sneered, letting its bile drip like poison and burn like acid. _They are broken things._

That might be true. Kylo didn’t care.

His memories were of Hux, from afar and much closer, were of moonlight and glass and the kindness of strangers who weren’t.

And Kylo loved them.

“Broken things are no less precious for it,” he said. Certainty shone in his voice, and reflected in his blade.

“Good, son!”

That was Han Solo, who had somehow managed to make his way back to him. He took out his blaster, aimed two shots at the nearest tendrils.

The little red laser shouldn’t have done any damage. It did though, perhaps only because Han Solo had willed it.

Then he grabbed Kylo by the wrist, and they went running again.

The Shadow tried to follow, but Hux had already coordinated a second wave of attack, this time from the checkers pieces. Though they couldn’t stop it forever, they still did a good job at slowing his movements.

That gave them time.

Once they were at the foot of the radiator, Chewie bent down. He grabbed both Kylo and Han by the waist and hoisted them up, as high as he could.

It was just high enough for them to grab the edge of the radiator. Han pulled himself up easily enough, and helped Kylo, whose side still burned from the Shadow’s strike.

There was no way for the bear to climb up with them. Unlike the bedside table, there was nothing near the radiator to help him up.

Chewie’s part was over. Now his only job was getting himself to safety.

Kylo was at a loathe to turn his back at him, but he needed to keep on going. He was so close!

All he needed was to get up at the top of the shelf. He didn’t know how he would do it exactly, but his companion had assured him that he had a plan. He turned towards Han Solo, expecting him to reveal a rope, or a jetpack, or anything else that might help them up.

Han Solo did nothing of that though. He merely inspected the side of the shelf, running fingers over the cracks before nodding in satisfaction.

Kylo’s eyes widened as understanding dawned upon him.

The space pirate turned to him. “You know how to climb?”

“Not that high!” Kylo cried out.

The space pirate gave him a crooked grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll you better learn.”

“I can’t… I can’t, I can’t, I-”

His rambling was cut off by the space pirate pulling him into a hug.

Kylo gasped, and instinctively hugged back.

“I’ll help you,” Kylo heard whispered in his ear. “Whatever you need.”

Han Solo put his hands on Kylo shoulder, grounding him in the truth. He pushed him back, just enough so that he could look at Kylo’s face.

“I’m right behind you,” Han Solo said, and there was an infinity of meanings behind his words, all of them screaming devotion. “Always.”

Kylo stared at him for what felt like a very long time, before nodding shakily.

The space pirate smiles, and patted him on the shoulder.

Kylo turned towards the wood, took of deep breath. Put his hand in a crack, his foot on a bump. Pushed and pulled.

His feet left the ground. He felt the world behind him grow, clutching at his back and threatening to pull him off.

He forced himself to take another breath.

The space pirate would be right behind him. He had said so.

That meant Kylo had someone to catch him.

And Hux was waiting.

He climbed, and climbed, and he didn’t know how high. It could have been inches, it could have been an entire mountain.

It could be anything and everything, and it could all come to nothing because of clumsy led feat and a crack that ran from face to shoulder.

The thought made him freeze. His thighs cramped, his hands clenched.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t because he knew his next move would be a mistake, that he would slip and fall and fail. The space pirate wouldn’t catch him. There was no other outcome that was possible in this unkind universe.

He buried his face against the edge of the shelf, hoping that wood would fill his vision until it was all that he could see.

It didn’t work. The corner of his eyes still inflicted upon him the pit bellow him and the Shadow that would not relent. 

He closed his eyes.

He couldn’t fall. _Wouldn’t._

For even if the fall didn’t break him, the Shadow most certainly would. It would take him again, and he would forget, and Hux would be high up and alone and the Princess who wanted him happy would never have her wish and the space pirate and bear would have risked themselves for nothing.

For Kylo, which was about the same thing.

 _Climb, you fool,_ he heard Hux urge him in his mind. The words were sharp, like Hux, and Kylo so desperately wanted to obey.

If only he could persuade his limbs to collaborate.

There were dents in the wood. Small and narrow, but Kylo was small too, so he could fit in a foot and a hand. Pull, push, grab, heave, pretending it was only the foot of the bed. Climbing like he did every night, just for a glimpse of Hux.

The things he would do for that…

Kylo opened his eyes.

Pretend this was just like every night. Pretend it was but the foot of the bed.

But no.

This was not every night. This was not the past. This was not the below-the-bed. This was not the sadness and the longing, the whispers and the dust and the night that refused to last forever.

This was better. This time this was him being brave. This time it was him choosing heights and refusing the dark.

And this time as he looked up, Hux was looking right back.

Leaning over the edge, with his hand reached out as far as it could go, Hux was looking back.

And that gaze held him more surely than any harness.

And Kylo started climbing again.

He climbed and climbed still, until the cracks grew sparse and shallow, until there was nothing to grab onto.

And still he climbed, for he was carried by moonlight.

And Hux was looking at him. And smiled.

And Kylo thought he just might be smiling back.

He could go on forever like this. He could fly to the very top, uncowering and unbroken. He could keep on going until-

Until Hux’s eyes strayed to the side, just a moment.

Just a moment, but Kylo didn’t blink so he didn’t miss it. He didn’t miss the way his doll’s eyes widened, the way he froze while forcing himself to look away.

Kylo saw it all, and dread settled in his stomach. Like a heavy weight, threatening to pull him down. His arms stiffened, his legs trembled, and even as he clung furiously to what hold he had on the wood he looked away from his task, to the sight that had shocked Hux so.

And nearly let go from shock, and terror, and guilt and grief and oh!

Was he not the most wretched creature upon the Earth?! Was he not the most selfish of fools?!

What was the point in being brave if one turned blind instead?

He had though the space pirate would follow. He had thought Han Solo was right behind him, had thought them both together in this challenge. Yet instead the man was on the ground below, far away from the shelf.

On the ground. Near the bed.

Walking towards the Shadow.

“You said you would follow!” he screamed.

The space pirate turned. Kylo didn’t know if he had heard him, or if he just _knew_ somehow.

Even so far away, Kylo could see his smile.

It was sad, but peaceful.

And so full of what Kylo finally dared to call love.

“I told you,” Han Solo said softly, and moonlight carried his words and his love straight to Kylo. “Whatever you need.”

And then the Shadow grabbed him and swallowed him whole.

And the whole world started to scream.

Himself. The bear. The Princess watching from her castle.

The Shadow, for some reason, churning and stomping and howling in pain and fury. It grew and boiled as if some terrible fire was burning within. It stretched, and pulled, and collapsed on itself in a pitiful moan.

Kylo watched it happen. He dared not move.

The Shadow seemed… weaker.

He could still see it, seething, reaching out, trying to find its grip on the floor to drag itself out. But its reach had been lessened.

Its voice unable to reach him anymore.

And Kylo wept, for there laid his once-protector, who had been a liar and a thief and all he had for so long. He wept, for there laid his true-protector, who had been a stranger and a riddle and who had loved Kylo even when he knew not why.

He wept, for the bear was making its way back to the palace where the Princess had remained, and Hux was still reaching out to him, and it was all the kindness of the Universe spent on someone so desperately unworthy.

He wept, and he didn’t know entirely why.

And still the moonlight whispered:

_Climb._

He obeyed, heaving himself up despite the heaviness that had settled within him. He kept on climbing through the blur of his tears.

He was sobbing still. In grief, in pain.

In relief when his fingers hooked over the top of the shelf, and porcelain hands gripped his arms to pull him up.

Kylo almost collapsed on the glass, falling to his knees, barely managing to catch himself on his hands.

He looked up, desperate to see the one person who could give meaning to all that had happened.

Hux was looking at him too, lips parted open. His arm was half raised, as if he wanted to touch Kylo but was waiting for permission.

His eyes were shining. Kylo didn’t know why.

“Kylo…”

“I think I’ve just lost something,” Kylo said, his voice was shacking like his shoulders were shacking, like the entire world was threatening to fall apart if it weren’t for Hux holding it together. “More than I know….”

And Hux took him in his arms. He was trembling as well, but his hands were steady as they went through Kylo’s hair, as they stroked his back and as he let Kylo cry in his shoulder.

Kylo, in his wretched selfishness, let himself be held. For all that he feared he would break Hux as well, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but cling to him.

They were both weak and fragile things. But here on the shelf together, Kylo let himself hope that they were safe enough, high enough so that not even grief could reach them one day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out in two weeks! Just a head's up!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was waaay optimistic about how much workload I would have, so this chapter suffered for it.
> 
> It's still heavily unbetaed, but I don't want to keep you guys waiting any longer. I will proof read again in the morning!

The first few days were difficult.

The space pirate had given himself for him, and Kylo could still hear his absence. It took the color of the bear’s cries, of the princess’ tears and the strength she still showed. Somewhere, an old doll with itchy beige clothes was mourning.

It was a misery that soaked the air, seeped into the skin to fill the lungs. Kylo felt it keenly, and for the first few days could hardly move from the thickness of it.

Yet he tried, for Hux’s sake. For his own as well.

He had spent so long being crushed under the Shadow; he would not let himself be crushed by another kind of darkness, no matter how difficult that battle might be.

Looking over the edge of the shelf helped. For from there he could see the Shadow, who had once seemed untouchable and was now brought low. It crawled and stirred under the bed, yet could barely stretch its tendrils past the bed frame. It could no longer yell, couldn’t even whisper; it only moaned, low and hoarse and terribly unpleasant.

It was so diminished now.

And Kylo drew strength from that, no matter how ugly that sentiment might be.

“It makes no sense,” his doll had muttered one evening, using usual haughtiness to hide how truly shaken he was. “How could something so small defeat something so big?”

Kylo had tried to explain, but couldn’t find the words. At least, none that would satisfy someone as rationally minded as Hux.

In truth, though, the answer could only be felt: one had to have been under the bed, had to have felt such despair and loneliness, had to have felt the Shadow slither over them and feel how much stronger it grew from misery. One had to witness how it fed the pain, how it blossomed from the sorrow and regret of stolen things.

And then one had to look into the space pirate’s eyes, had to see the love and the caring and he selflessness as he freely gave himself to the Shadow for the sake of another.

And then to know that the Shadow could have never stood a chance against it. It had sought to feed, and realized too late that its meal was its poison.

Kylo didn’t know if the knowledge was sad or beautiful.

It was probably a little bit of both.

The same way that Kylo was both sad and grateful for all that had happened to carry him back to the shelf. 

Did that make him craven? He didn’t care.

He felt it within him, that joy. Like a dim, persisting light, pulsating within him in time with his own heart. He didn’t know it was possible for one such as him to have one at all, but surely Hux must have willed it into existence.

Hux had wrinkled his nose at the idea. He had come around at the idea of moonlight, somewhat begrudgingly, but would never attribute to himself anything that hadn’t been done through chess pieces and proper planning.

“I haven’t done a thing save talk to you,” Hux had stated firmly. “And maybe flip over a chessboard once or twice. Whatever wonder you find within herself had been there since the beginning, as I _clearly_ had no part in it.”

That had been a compliment, in a very Hux way. It had made Kylo float in ways moonlight never could.

To be fair though, almost everything Hux said delighted him. Somewhat impossibly, the reverse seemed to be true as well. There was nothing with them on the shelf save their conversation, but that was enough to carry them through the night. It was always wonderful, even though they argued sometimes.

And when the sun came up, they would have to stop. Hux would insist on finding some sort of conclusion to what debate had been going on or the lack of resolution nag at him. Kylo thought they should just pick up where they left off the next night.

Usually, they did both.

And Kylo was happy.

So very happy.

Except that…

But at some point….

Hux started looking away.

Not always, but often enough. Several times a night even, he would look out onto the room, or towards the floor. Sometimes his eyebrows were pinched,

He would look at anything that wasn’t Kylo.

And Kylo didn’t know _why._

He couldn’t think of anything he had done to upset. Couldn’t think of anything he said that had caused hurt.

Maybe that was the problem? That he didn’t know?

Or maybe Hux was just getting bored with him. Or was disappointed. Or something else.

Kylo just didn’t _know._

He was so afraid to ask, yet after a week, he couldn’t bear it anymore.

Hux was looking pensive again, standing far too far and far too close to the edge for Kylo’s taste.

And Kylo had tried to say nothing, had really tried, but the insecurities that had been simmering within him overflood and the words just spilled out of his mouth.

“You’re unhappy.”

Hux turned his head sharply, eyebrows drawn together. “What makes you say that?”

Kylo swallowed. “You won’t look at me,” he said through the thickness in his throat. “You always look away.”

“That’s not true. I look ahead.”

“To better leave me behind?”

Kylo couldn’t stop his voice from dying out at the end of his sentence.

Hux reacted as if he had been shouting. He flinched, looked both pained and flabbergasted, and when he next spoke he did so in genuine protest rather than any sort of chiding. “Don’t be absurd! Where I look at you’re right there with me.” His shoulders dropped. “Or we would have been. But there is no way down this shelf.”

Kylo froze.

Of course. The way down.

He had been selfish, hadn’t he? So happy to finally be up on the shelf that he had forgotten that Hux had been here for an eternity already, and wanted to leave, and Kylo hadn’t even _thought_ of it.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you,” Hux said softly. In the next second, he shook his head furiously, and pinched his brow. “No, no, what I meant to say is that it isn’t your fault.”

“I still.”

“No. No. “You still” _nothing_. You’ve done enough already.” He groaned. “That was harsher than I meant, I…”

He snapped his mouth shut, took a deep breath. And another, until he was calm enough to formulate what he so wanted to say. “I… I could spend an eternity here so long as you are with me. And would count myself lucky for it.”

Kylo’s lips parted open. Then they pulled into the widest of smiles; Kylo couldn’t have stopped himself even if he had wanted to.

Hux looked so relieved at the sight. He smiled back, somewhat tentatively. “I mean it.”

“I _know._ That’s what makes me smile.”

“I will learn to be satisfied,” Hux announced, more to himself than to Kylo. “Not everything is as I had hoped, but it is still far more than I could have dreamed of.”

Kylo looked down. “I wish things were different.”

“I do not.”  

Hux had spoken with absolute certainty. In the next moment, his face shifted into slow dawning surprise; he looked almost bemused at this new facet of himself. “We are the sum of our desires,” he murmured more pensively, turning toward the edge of the shelf to stare into nothingness. “Both fulfilled and not. Success and compromise are the foundations of the soul. And so mine, and so yours…”

He startled then, turned sharply towards Kylo. His eyes were bright, and he was pointing his finger almost accusingly towards Kylo, who could only blink in confusion at the flustered intensity that marked Hux’s next words. “I forbid you from being anything else than what you are!”

“Okay,” Kylo said, for he couldn’t think of a better response.

“I mean it.”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Hux nodded resolutely. He was blushing. “I am glad that is settled.”

He wasn’t half as eloquent as he usually was.

Kylo thought is wiser not to mention it.

“So, you are happy then?”

“I am. To a shocking degree.” Hux’s eyes bore straight into Kylo’s. “ _You_ make me happy.”

“It’s all I want,” Kylo breathed out, somewhat dizzy from all that green. “It’s what I meant to do.”

“Well, I commend you for a job well done,” Hux said with a fond smirk.

And Kylo felt his heart swell with pride.

“Give me another one!” he asked, rushing forward to all but grab Hux’s hand.

“Give you what?”

“A job. A mission. Give me another one.” Kylo’s cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling. “Everything is so much better when it is done for you.”

Hux chuckled fondly.

“It’s true!” Kylo insisted. “I would do anything. Command it, and I will make it so.”

“Anything?” Hux asked, eyebrows raised. “All that can be?”

“And all that would never happen,” Kylo proclaimed proudly. “For I have left the Shadow, and seen you from up close. I was ripped away, and I climbed my way back to you.  I can be mighty – let me prove it!”

“If I asked for a ray of light?”

“I would freeze it in its tracks and give it to you.”

“If I asked for the night to never end?”

“Then I would wrap us in moonlight, and admire you in the light of it.”

“If I asked for your happiness to be as great as my own?”

“Then I would call myself a cheat, for it is done already.”  How could Hux even doubt it? “And I would ask again for what you desire, that I may give it to you. That I may watch joy light your face at my deed, and that that sight would make my own delight grow tenfold.”

Hux laughed again, this time out of pure joy. Kylo would have laughed along if he hadn’t been too busy drinking in the sight of him.

White and copper and soft and strong. Sharp like a shard, but with his edges dulled just for Kylo.

Hux shone. Brighter than moonlight.

“I know what I want,” he said at last. Kylo could see him thrumming with excitement.

“What is it?”

Hux’s eyes were as bright as his smile.

“Kiss me.”

Kylo sputtered.

“What?” he squeaked.

“Kiss me.” Hux repeated. “I want you to.” He smiled even wider. “I think you want to as well.”

Kylo felt dazed. “Very much so.”

“Then do it. Kiss me.”

“I have never…” Kylo breathed out. “Can I really?”

“I demand it. I command it.” Hux had leaned forward; his breath brushed against Kylo’s cheek. “Kiss me.”

Well, Kylo couldn’t very well make him ask again, could he? Kylo rushed to obey.

And in his haste tripped over his own feet, colliding into Hux and making them both tumble onto the ground.

The fall knocked the wind out of both of them; Kylo more so for he had cushioned Hux’s landing with his own body. Hux had slid off him from the momentum though, now lying by Kylo’s side rather than on his chest.

Mortified, Kylo opened his mouth to apologize.

Hux shushed him. His hands came to cup Kylo’s face.

“Why didn’t you do kiss me before, when you are so eager to?”

“I didn’t dare,” Kylo answered plainly. “Why didn’t you?”

Hux’s smile turned sad. “You were grieving. I did not wish to intrude.”

“You’re not. You’d never,” Kylo whispered. “Kiss me.”

And Hux did.

And it was…

Soft. Like porcelain. Sweet, like nothing else. Cleansing of all that Kylo had let cling to him for all these years, unwanted and unrelenting.

It was the sky beyond the window, the promise of flight beyond it.

It was, in short, a very good thing.

When they pulled apart, Kylo couldn’t bear to let go of Hux’s coat.

Hux’s hands were clenched just as tightly around his hips.

Kylo licked his lips. “I liked that.”

“Good,” Hux whispered. “I’m meant to make you happy too.”

After that, Kylo wanted to do kisses very often. Hux seemed very on board with the plan. 

It was all kinds of kisses. Kisses on the lips, on the nose. On the neck when one of them was feeling particularly bold.

Kisses at the break of dawn, the last thing they would do before moonlight faded. Wrapped in each other’s harms as they huddled near the corner so that they would hold each other all through daytime.

Kylo had yet to figure out which one was his favorite; he needed to do them all, and several times at that.

One night, he had been repeatedly experiencing kisses on the hair, curtesy of Hux’s immense fondness for his locks, when they were interrupted by a dull bump coming from down below.

Hux perked up, and slipped out of his position on Kylo’s lap before the soldier could make even a noise in protest. He peaked over the edge of the shelf, and smiled.

“Miss Millicent!” he greeted loudly enough for the cat to hear. “You aren’t usually so shy.”

“She’ll come up soon enough,” Kylo grumbled as he pulled himself up.

Hux hummed. “I think she is jealous.”

 “Well too bad for her.”

“Oh, don’t get into a mood,” Hux chided, pressing a kiss to Kylo cheek. (Kylo’s fourth favorite, probably.) “She has every right to be jealous. I no longer love her best.”

Despite himself, Kylo felt himself smile. He was far too easy to please at times. “Is the competition still ongoing? Do I need to watch my back?”

Hux hit his arm in answer to his teasing. “Quiet, you. I thought you were getting along.”

“I want to be friends, since it is important to you.” The primness in Kylo’s voice could have put Hux to shame. “But I do expect it to take so amount of time.”

Hux chuckled, pulling away. “I’ll invite her up. It has been far too long.”

Kylo stepped back, willing to let Hux call the cat but unwilling to facilitate her arrival in any way.

It was a good thing the night was almost over; Kylo wouldn’t have to tolerate Millicent for long. She wasn’t as rude as she had been in the past, but now she _licked._ Broad swiped of the tongue that engulfed all of him if he was unfortunate to get caught

He didn’t know how Hux tolerated it, save for the eternal soft spot for he had for her. He honestly didn’t know what she had done-

Do-

Would do -

_No._

Kylo went cold.

He felt it, moments before it happened.

The Universe _screamed_ with it.

And Kylo screamed too, loud and desperate, rushing towards his doll.

“Hux!”

But it was too late. He knew it was too late, for he had forgotten for far too long.

He had forgotten how cruel the Shadow. How petty.

How cunning, and terrible, and insidious as it bid its time, waited. Weakened, but not dead.

More than enough life within it to sneak a tendril from under the bed, and pull at a cat’s tail.

Millicent did what any cat would do: she bolted, and she hit the shelf. It shook during the collision, the tremor running up its entire length.

Up to the very top, where Hux was leaning so very close to the edge.

Kylo tried to run to him. He was too slow.

Hux’s balance shifted.

For a moment, it was like he was floating on air. He had just enough time to turn towards Kylo, to look at him, mouth open in shocked horror.

And the he fell.

Silently.

It was terribly quiet, all of it. Not even the sound of air rushing by.

Nothing at all, and then –

A crash.

Porcelain shattering against the floor.

Then the sound of Kylo’s gasp, which was more of a chock. Or a sob to smothered in horror to fully blossom.

If he looked over the edge, he knew what he would see. But he couldn’t move, could barely breathe, could only-

_Scream._

The windows shook.

Kylo howled his rage, his pain. It ripped at his lungs, at his throat and at his heart, and he kept on screaming still.

And the world screamed with him.

Moonlight surged around him, summoned by his anger. The moon was red, the sky was black, and Kylo. Didn’t. _Care._

All he cared about was that _Hux_ was gone, _Hux_ had shattered and it was all because of -

Him.

Not Him.

The leech that crawled below.

That _beast_  that lurked still!

But no longer.

Kylo was a knight, and he would _slay the wicked!_

Moonlight flooded the room, forcing its way into every crack, every corner. Under the bed where the Shadow was being burned away by Kylo’s rage.

Its pain felt good. Its dying moments were a delicacy to be relished, one that tasted like ash.

Its last screams still didn’t match Kylo’s, because Hux was still _gone,_ and Kylo could feel himself shattering just as thoroughly.

Then daylight came, leaving him frozen in his own agony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know things seem pretty bad right now, but.... *points at tags*
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter in two weeks ( or three, if I'm learning from past mistakes.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!!! The Final chapter!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me through this!!! I appreciated each and every one of your comments! I hope this doesn't disappoint! 
> 
> As usual, no beta, all mistakes are mine.

The world stopped existing.

Or rather, Kylo no longer cared for it.

_“Shit! What happened?”_

It was all just noise and color with no meaning to them

The only meaning in the world was gone.

_“Can we fix it?”_

_“Hope so! It was part of the package!”_

During the day, he couldn’t move. At night, he no longer bothered.

All he wanted was to be was nothing, yet he was forced to be. He could not go to the edge of the shelf, where _he_ had reached and _he_ had died, not even to risk himself in a fall that might not even shatter him.

Hux had been right. He was stronger than that.

Hux had been right about so many things, except perhaps about loving him.

_“It’s kind of a shame, don’t you think?”_

_“We didn’t even know it was_ there _until two days ago, we won’t miss it. Besides, Grandpa would have rather melt them than leave it to the “unappreciative”.”_

_“He was such an asshole.”_

_“I know. I miss him too.”_

Kylo blinked.

He was in a box, foam on all sides keeping him in place. Above him was a plastic lid, sealed shut. The world through it was distorted and tainted blue.

Kylo had the vaguest memories of being lifted from the shelf, being scrutinized one last time through a lens – the pupil that had watched him had been so big Kylo thought it might have been the Shadow come to crush him once more.

The thought had left him indifferent.

And now in the box he stayed, staring at the ceiling that was nothing but white paint. In distance was the sound of a clock ticking, each second as meaningless as the next.

Kylo waited. And waited.

He expected nothing to come along.

When nightfall came, he waited still.

And as usual, the universe thwarted his expectations entirely.

After an hour at most, there was a whisper. A thud.

The sound of fur brushing against the edge of the box.

And then someone on top of the lid, in a white dress and with lovely brown hair tied in a bun.

The Princess was above him, her face inches away from his own. Though it was slightly blurred from the plastic, her features shone through as they were lit by moonlight.

The kindness and the sadness in her eyes were her. Unmistakably her.

Kylo saw her, and for the first time woke up from his daze.

He woke up to a world without Hux, and could not stop himself from weeping.

“Oh, my child!” The princess breathed out; the fog that tinted the lid was heavy with her sorrow. “My child!”

“You woke me up!” His voice was hoarse from disuse and his sobbing. He sounded wretched, and he did not care. “Why didn’t you let me sleep the world away?”

The princess’ face pinched in sorrow, but showed no regret. “Why shouldn’t I wake you, when you were having a nightmare?”

Kylo shook his head. “This one will follow me in my waking hours.”

“But those who sleep cannot fight back,” she argued softly. “The waking hurt, then may get up and face the world again.”

And what sort of world would it be?

A cruel one, Kylo thought. Crueler than he had ever thought. Every part of it from the wood to the glass to the curtain to all that he didn’t see whispered the same thing over and over again.

The same truth, over and over again.

“Hux is gone,” he sobbed, repeating what the universe would not let him forget.

The princess pressed her forehead against the lid. “I know.”

“I loved him so dearly.”

“I know,” she repeated, screwing her eyes shut. “Oh, my child, how I wish I could sooth you more!”

Selfishly, Kylo wished the same.

He did not deserve it, he knew, but he wanted it all the same. Wanted to be kissed on the forehead, to be held, to be cared for like she would her –

Kylo’s breath stuttered.

The word she had used, the word she always used to address him. Big and important, carelessly and perversely used by the Shadow and so reverently pronounced by her.

Oh, but Kylo had never truly _heard_ that word until now.

“You call me _that_. You always call me that.” Something else welled up in his chest, something so very big that he couldn’t quite grasp. It was a very big secret that wasn’t entirely his own, and we wanted to weep both for the pain of not knowing it and the relief of it being relieved to him at last. “And you never lie, do you?”

The Princess looked stunned.

Then her face crumpled, and she started to cry. Her fist pressed to her lips as a few fat tears fell from her eyes.

Kylo watched as they fell on the lid, each hit breaking his own heart further.

“And the space pirate?” he asked, voice as shattered as he felt.

The space pirate, who had given everything for him. Whose love had been rough, and selfless, and of all the things Kylo had failed to understand that love was the greatest loss of all.

The Princess looked sad. So sad, with all the grief and loss that had barely been concealed rising to the surface.

Kylo had to look away.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“No, no, don’t be.”

“I don’t remember,” he whispered. “Shadows take all.”

“Not all,” she said with a shake of her head, before sighing. “But they do prey on our most precious things.”

“What happened?”

“You were so young. So new. A long-promised gift. The then-child had proclaimed you a prince, and so had decided that I would be your mother.” She brushed a tear away from her eye, yet she was smiling. “Of all the games he played, that one was the best.”

Kylo laughed and sobbed at the same time, for indeed it sounded so very sweet.  “Did we live in the castle, behind the barricade?”

The Princess smiled still. How incredible she was, to contemplate what she had lost and still find joy in it. “You would climb it every day. Your father taught you how.”

“Did we sit at the table, with the empty plates and cups?”

“They would be filled with what food was imagined, and you always chose strawberry jam.”

“Did we love?”

The look the Princess gave him was answer enough. “So, so much.” She leaned forward, pressing her hand against the lid once more. “Of all the roles I played, all that I was since the beginning of my existence, there was none I loved so much as being your mother.”

Kylo put his hand against hers. The lid kept them from touching, but he wanted to think that the plastic was warmer where she touched.

“What happened?”

He was scared to ask. He needed to know.

“The Shadow. I tried to keep you safe, I tried to keep it away.” She looked down.  “But it reached out. A piece of it was hidden in your hair. None of us saw it, and it was right next to your ear.”

Kylo sighed sadly. “I was a fool to listen.”

“You were young. You had only ever known love.”

Such a blessed existence he had had. Such joy he must have felt.

The thought was bittersweet.

Yet Kylo much preferred it to the other one, the one that scratched at his mind and that wouldn’t have been nearly as painful had he been allowed to sleep the world away.

Why was he here, instead of upon the shelf?

Why had the Princess come all this way with such desperation?

Why?

He knew the answer to all these questions, of course.

“I’m going away, aren’t I?” he whispered. “They put me here to send me away.”

The Princess nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“Open the box, that I might stay?”

She shook her head. “They will only put you back.”

“We could be what we once were,” he pleaded, though he knew what was in vain.

“That isn’t true, and it’s better for it,” she stated with absolute certainty. “Where you are going, I cannot follow. It is a place for you, and though it is far away, all that you need is waiting for you there.”

“How do you know?”

She smiled, and pressed a kiss over his forehead. Kylo didn’t care about the lid, he felt it anyway. “Moonlight whispered it to me.”

Kylo wanted her to stay forever, but because the world hadn’t stopped existing after all, time kept on flowing. Daylight came, and she retreated to her castle after pressing one last kiss against the plastic lid.

And then large men came, dressed in blue and with funny hats that covered their eyes. They picked up his box, put it on top of a stack of larger boxes, and carried him out of the bedroom.

The world hadn’t stop, but it was changing very fast.

In the span of a minute, Kylo saw: another door, a blue carpet, a hallway, open doors through which he saw several other bedrooms.

Then a stairway, which the man took. Which made Kylo’s box shake.

Which would have made Kylo flail if he hadn’t been frozen by daylight and terror.

Fortunately, that moment only lasted a short while, and though the rest of the way was hardly smooth, it felt like a gentle glide compared to before. His box no longer threatened to fall, something he was desperately grateful for.

Kylo would never be able to bear the thought of falling ever again.

There was a bright light as his box was carried aside, followed by darkness once again as he was shoved in another dark room. The walls, floor, and roof were made of dark metal, all of which looked as cold as it probably felt. Kylo wanted to flinched when the doors were slammed shut.

There was silence, the muted sounds of footstep and doors opening and closing. The men who had carried him out were talking, though Kylo couldn’t make out the words.

Then the floor started rumbling, and he couldn’t hear them at all.

If he could have startled, he would have, but daylight held his tight and he could only look at the ceiling. His alarm only grew as the walls started to shake. Was this an earthquake?!

But the rumbling became less loud, the shacking calmed ever so slightly, and Kylo then understood what was happening.

The room was _moving_.

Rooms weren’t supposed to do that.

This was all very confusing, and Kylo wasn’t sure it was very safe. He waited for the walls to fall, but it didn’t happen.

Nothing happened, in fact.

The floor kept rumbling, occasionally jolting as the room rolled over a crack or a bump, but nothing else. The day passed, as it had to, but Kylo couldn’t tell apart minutes from hours. There was nothing for him to hold on to.

Nothing save for himself, which was terrifying in its own right. His mind was not always a friend to him.

Fortunately, his thoughts seemed determined to drift towards the Princess. He allowed it gladly.

She had been kind until the end, and she had deserved better. Happiness would have suited her, and she had certainly deserved more of it.

Kylo was so sorry for his hand in her misery. He so wanted to fix it for her.

He wanted to see her again, at least once.

And maybe he could? Life had been so strange and unpredictable for him, to him. Surely, there was a chance for that strangeness to wield something happy?

Kylo believed so, at least.

Moonlight didn’t know everything, and certainly didn’t reveal all.

The thought comforted him through the rest of the day.

Eventually, night did come. Kylo couldn’t see the sky or the stars, but he felt the invisible force holding him still release. Nothing changed between one moment and the next, but for the first time is a while Kylo was glad to have some agency back.

If the world was going to keep on going, then Kylo would no longer let himself drift passively through it. The space pirate hadn’t sacrificed himself for Kylo to give up. The Princess hadn’t loved him as she did for him to will himself away.

And Hux would have never tolerated it.

“What is happening?” he asked. He made his voice as loud as possible in order to make it pass through the lid. He tried to contort himself to see as much of the strange moving room as possible, but only managed to kneel in an uncomfortable position.

Still, the new angle allowed him to see a small figurine dressed in white, with grey hair and black boots. It looked smug, and spoke to him in haughty pride. “We are going to a Mu-Se-Am!”

In a smaller crate, a timid doll in a black uniform mumbled: “It’s museum.”

The figurine in the cape did not deter. “We are precious things!”

Kylo looked down, scoffing slightly. “You’re deluded.”

“It’s in the pamphlet,” the doll mumbled again.

“What?”

Kylo turned his head to see the doll shifting shyly in his box. His porcelain skin contrasted sharply with his dark hair and dark clothes, and he looked like he wanted to cover his face with his hat. Still, under Kylo persisting gaze, he cleared his throat, and started speaking again like he was reciting a poem:

“ _First Order manufactures were a staple of Imperial entertainment industry, producing everything from children’s toys to radio shows. Its near ubiquitous presence during the era makes it a perfect reflection of a society stretching from the fall of the Republic to the Rise of the Rebellion. Its exciting inclusion in the Hosnian Museum exhibit will allow audiences to see in a different yet complementary light the heavy militarized society we all remember.”_

The doll sounded proud of himself, but his words meant nothing to Kylo. “What of it, then?”

“It means we will be loved,” the doll answered simply.

Such a nice thought it was. Kylo decide not to cure the small doll from it.

The strange room kept on rolling.

It did so until well into the morning, much to Kylo’s frustration. He had hoped to be able to discretely look around once he was carried out again. Instead, he was forced in stillness as he made his way through unfamiliar hallways before being set on the floor.

The place he was in was big, with wooden floors and white walls. All the lights were dimmed, as if to make sure they would be gentle with fragile things.

Kylo was brought to a large room were wooden tables were being placed. From his spot he could watch as each table was covered by a cloth. And then more people came with boxes in their hands, and out of these boxes they pulled out stones and trees and rivers, buildings of all shapes and sizes, and even a black sky with stars, painted on wood.

And all those parts of places were carried to different tables, and Kylo saw as they built: a desert place, a green pasture. A place made of ice. A volcano with a citadel carved in the rock.

Tens of little worlds, all in one room.

All the toys were dispatched to their own universe. Kylo felt himself be carried toward the left, and – _finally!_ – pulled out of his box. He was placed upon the table, and when the workers moved away he could see the place where he was set.

It looked like a castle, or a temple. Made of black stone, with almost no windows. A few red lights came from small slights in the floor, bathing the entire structure in an eerie light.

He didn’t like the place at all; it reminded him too much of the bellow-the-bed.

He didn’t like the people that were with him.

They were hardly inviting these other toys. Lead soldiers, just like him, but with strange masks and face paint. Yellow eyes that burned him even from afar. As soon as night came, they all took one look at him and sniffed in disdain.

Kylo didn’t care. He wanted nothing to do with them anyway. He might have been like them once, had he not seen the truth of Shadows and the strength of fragile things. Had he not loved, and lost, and kept on loving still with a love that both shattered him and held him together.

But he had, and though it had all been painful and hurt him still, he treasured every second of it.

So let them scorn him. Let them find him lacking.

They didn’t know what he knew. They didn’t know there was a world beyond the dark and the red.

That resolve carried him through the following weeks.

During the day, he let himself be watched by grown—persons and children-stills that came in crowds. It had been surprising the first time it happened, but he was quickly reassured when it became evident they weren’t allowed to touch He let himself be flattered by their wide eyes and nostalgic smiles. At night, he ignored the toys that were with him.

Especially the one that looked like an old man with a melted face. It spoke in a croaking voice and kept trying to coax Kylo over to the dark side of the table where he stood. There was a shadow hidden in the cloak he wore, and Kylo didn’t trust him for a second.

He fully expected the rest of his days to remain in that routine; but as usual, the universe decided to prove him wrong.

This time, it came in the form of hoofbeats.

One night Kylo heard them, shortly after the crowd had been ushered out. When he looked up, he saw a knight in a heavy, shining armor, riding towards him. Their horse was so fast Kylo barely had time to gasp before they were standing before him. They didn’t quite match: the kights armor was sleek and shiny, like something from the future. The horse’s saddle and bridle was old and worn, like something from and old magical kingdom that probably had dragons.

Kylo suspected the knight had stolen it from another table; he said nothing.

The knight removed her helmet, revealing blond hair that stuck out in a slight curl. Her jaw and air were strong. Everything about her screamed confidence and competence, and Kylo had the strangest urge to impress her.

“You!” she demanded, guiding her horse to take a better look at him. “Are you the warrior?”

Kylo blinked in confusion. “Um, who are you? Why are you here?”

“I am on a mission. Are you the warrior I’m looking for?”

“Maybe?”

“Well, you don’t look like much else,” she grumbled, before extending her hand. “I’m supposed to take you to the new display. Climb on.”

Kylo took one look at the masked people, who were staring at them with their usual hostility. “Okay.”

The knight looked startled. “You don’t have any questions?”

Kylo _did_ , but he didn’t want to sound like he didn’t know what was going on. Even if it was true.

He needed to look impressive for whatever was coming next.

“Moonlight told me you were coming,” he lied as he lifted himself up and settled himself behind her.

“I’m not sure moonlight works that way,” the knight replied, but she didn’t press any further.

With a kick of her leg, the horse began to run. The gallop felt much faster upon the horse than watching it, making Kylo tighten his grip around the knight’s armor. In a flash, they were approaching the edge of the table, and Kylo buried his face in the cape.

The knight was so confident Kylo didn’t dare question her, but he had no idea how they were going to go over the gap in between tables. There was nothing he could do about it though, so he merely held his breath and hoped finding out wouldn’t be painful somehow.

In the end, the answer was simple: the horse jumped, far and high, and smoothly it was as if it had grown wings.

Then it landed smoothly, and kept on running.

What an amazing horse it was!

“How can it jump so far?” Kylo asked, watching in amazement as the horse leaped from table to table.

The knight shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be able to?”

Kylo conceded the point.

When the horse finally stopped, Kylo peeked around the armored woman and frowned.

The display in front of him was strange: it looked like a very big triangle-shaped box, with little canons pocking from the bottom. There was no roof to it though, as if to leave room for giants to look inside. There was one large door with a ramp leading inside, through which Kylo could see small dolls busying themselves at work.

They all wore the same clothes as the shy doll from the moving room; Kylo wondered if he was somewhere in there.

“What’s that?” he asked as he stepped down, looking over the strange structure once more.

It looked _a little bit_ like a toy spaceship he vaguely remembered, but that one was round and kind of clunky. This one looked much nicer.

“What they imagine the future would be like,” the knight answered. It wasn’t of much help. “In you go,” she said, gently pushing his back. “He’s waiting.”

Kylo complied, though he still didn’t understand what was going on.

He almost stumbled when he saw the inside.

The ship was big – much bigger than the temple on his own table! And it was so full, too!

Wherever he looked, he saw dolls in black clothing either looking at small computers or talking among themselves. A few of them went back and forth between different consoles, shouting out numbers and letters.

It sounded like the chess games Kylo had played ages ago. His heart tightened at the thought.

He tried to chase away the feeling by taking more of the scene in. He tried to figure out who they were playing against, realized it was a game of make believe. He watched as ever doll kept on reporting their move to someone on the deck, and he followed their gaze to see just who –

Kylo stopped breathing.

It wasn’t his fault; it was that his heart had stopped, then clenched, then swelled with hope and fear and there was simply no room in his chest for anything else.

Kylo wanted to clutch at his heart to keep it from bursting. Wanted to curl in on himself, or fall on his knees, or weep. He couldn’t do any of it though, could do nothing but stare at the lone figure on the deck, who turned around. Who smiled, and the tempest of emotions within Kylo became of chorus of voices, who whispered and shouted and screamed one single word.

“Hux…”

Kylo was so scared saying that name would break the illusion, that the dream would end and he would wake up to a cruel world again.

But it didn’t happen.

The figure remained, this wonderful thing was still in the world. Was real, and beautiful, and here and _alive._

And it was Hux, so fully and perfectly Hux. With copper hair and delicate skin, a proud walk and the strength of porcelain as he made his way towards Kylo.

With a crack on his face, thin and black, which started around his forehead and framed it like a diadem. And another one that ran down his chest, cutting through the sun-like emblem upon his coat.

Kylo’s hand reached out, his fingers hovering over the scars of Kylo’s failure. He didn’t dare touch them, not until Hux took a step forward. He took Kylo’s hand in his, and guided it gently along the cracks.

“I’m a bit broken,” he murmured, squeezing Kylo’s trembling hand. “They did their best, but broken things keep their mark.”

“You’re perfect,” Kylo breathed out.

Hux smiled, kissing Kylo’s palm. “Then will you finally believe me when I tell you the same?”

His face bore the same expression it did whenever Hux thought himself clever. It was so wonderfully familiar, and Kylo couldn’t stop staring.

He would never be able to stop. He had been starved of Hux for so long, and now that he could drink in the sight of him, he would never have enough. All that had been beautiful once was now divine, from Hux’s face to his pride to his brilliant mind that now commanded over hundreds.

Hux had been right; he had never belonged up on a shelf.

“You belong here,” he said, letting his eyes trail over the spaceship before they were inevitably drawn back to Hux. “I can tell.”

Hux looked pleased at that. “This is a place of future dreams. War among the stars.” He stood proudly. “And I am the General.”

“I am of the past,” Kylo said thoughtfully, thinking back to the temple he had been placed in. “Modeled after long-dead orders.”

Hux’s face hardened at that. “I don’t care.” He took Kylo’s hand in his, squeezing it tight. “We will stay together.”

And Kylo smiled. For the first time in an eternity, he smiled, and found himself speaking words he seldom said and almost never meant.  “I trust you.”

“Good. I will make it happen.” Hux leaned closer, until their face were inches apart and Kylo could feel Hux’s vow brush against his lips. “I will threaten, and cajole. I will scheme and I will defy the forces above us. I will do anything that it takes.”

It was almost frightening, the fervor with which he spoke. Hux’s love was a fearsome thing.

Kylo adored it. “All of that for me?”

“That, and everything else,” Hux swore. “All that I am, all that I have. The empty cavity within me, filled with you.”

And he sealed that promise with a kiss.

It was short, and gentle. When they pulled away Kyo brought his fingers to his lips, where he could still taste triumph and hope.

He smiled. “I think that was my favorite kiss yet.”

Hux laughed at that. “Careful Kylo, you will make me believe in the kindness of the world after all!”

Kylo rested his forehead against Hux’s, and closed his eyes. “The universe is cruel, and absurd, and strange and so very big. And it has you in it.”

He could hear Hux’s smile, for his doll still so loved to be flattered. “My presence makes it worth it then?”

Kylo opened his eyes, and looked upon the face he would spend the rest of eternity adoring. “No. It makes it wonderful.”

 

*

 

In years to come, the museum staff will tell the strange story of two little toys who never stayed put, who were always found together in the morning no matter how often they were put back in place the day before. They would say how they eventually gave up and let the two toys remain together.

They wouldn’t know to speak of Shadow and Moonlight, of courage and kindness. It wouldn’t be a very long story, or a very interesting one.

But that is okay, for the lead soldier and porcelain doll only cared for its ending, and the forever that followed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I just wanted to post this to have the story be done. I will probably need to come back tomorrow to proof read it, but at least it was finished on a Sunday!

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!](http://courgette96.tumblr.com)


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